


While These Visions Did Appear

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesiac Dean, Amnesiac Sam, Consensual Underage Sex, M/M, Underage Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-09
Updated: 2010-07-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:11:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester never does anything in small measure, and he takes the safety of his boys very seriously.  A spell is only as good as the man providing it though and when something goes wrong there is no one left to pick up the pieces.  No one remembers.  Certainly not two young men who wake with no memory of each other or how they ended up in a motel together.  The only thing they do know is how to hunt.  It's not as simple as that though, as the two men form unbreakable bonds and take the road to a life they never would have considered and a destiny they never wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	While These Visions Did Appear

 

 

 

 

_“If we shadows have offended,_  
_Think but this, and all is mended:_  
_That you have but slumbered here-“_

Dean held up a finger to his lips, trying to silence his brother.  Sam was still reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream and he hadn’t noticed the tension in his brother.  As much as Dean would love to go back and help his brother reread the play, remembering how much they’d laughed as he and Dean had voiced the characters when Sam had trouble following the plot the first time he’d read it, something wasn’t right and he needed answers.

“John, you’re a fool if you do this,” they could hear Bobby’s angry voice through the door. 

Sam might be his younger brother but he wasn’t stupid enough to make noise once he realized Dean was trying to listen in on Bobby and their dad in the middle of a fight.  Instead he creased the corner of the page he’d been reading and dropped the book on the bed, then crept along the floor to crouch at Dean’s side to hear better.

It wasn’t that they were trying to eavesdrop really but something happened on their last hunt and ever since their dad had gone out of his way to exclude them from his current project.  He stopped looking for new hunts, began researching, and left them out in the dark.  It wasn’t all that odd for him to leave Sam out of things, but even when he was going to leave Dean behind he let him know where he was going and what he was up against.  They were only getting a brick wall though, being left behind with no way of tracking down their father if something went wrong.  It didn’t set well with Dean and Sam worried almost as much as he did about it.  So it wasn’t really eavesdropping.  It was survival and their father had always taught them to do what they needed to stay alive.

“You know what he said.” John answered impatiently.

“Demons lie.”

“And demons tell the truth when it suits them too.  You can’t deny that my boys could be used against me Bobby.”

“Hell John, they could be used against you, me, Caleb, even Pastor Jim.”

“All the more reason to make sure they’re safe.”

“Don’t expect me to be a part of this.  Of all the damn fool things you’ve done this is the most, and doing it without those boys knowing?  Dean’s not stupid.  You think he won’t figure out what you’ve done?”

“As long as it keeps him alive I don’t care if he hates me for it.”

Dean heard the two men getting up and pulled away from the bedroom door.  Sam jumped back into his bed, grabbing his book up and flipping it open halfway through.  Dean dropped himself onto his back beside his brother. 

No one stormed in immediately and Sam looked over at Dean.  “What’s going on?” 

Dean looked at him and shook his head.  “No idea Sammy,”

 He wanted to say something that would make the concerned look fade from his brother’s eyes but there was only so much he could do.  At sixteen Sam was too smart to be fooled and he’d been a hunter all his life.  There was no way his false platitudes would do any good.  It still worked when he was sick or hurt, but not when faced with a puzzle.

Before he could think of anything else to say the door banged open.  “Come on boys, your dad says it’s time to go.”

“I thought we were staying the night, maybe the weekend?”  Sam was about to go into a full blown pout, though Dean knew his brother would deny it if he said anything.  They’d both been looking forward to it.  Bobby gave Sam his space, let him explore and read all but a few of his books and Dean was allowed to tinker with anything he wanted, from  fixing cars to taking apart car radios to see what made them work.  Bobby let them be themselves while still making them keep up their father’s training schedule.  It was more than their father normally did, forcing them into doing his dirty work when he didn’t have the time for it.

“Sorry Sam.  We’ll have to make up for it next time, right?”  Bobby’s smile was his con smile though, fake and just a little too charming for the gruff man they knew he was. 

When he closed the door Dean smacked the side of Sam’s leg.  “Come on Sammy.  If he’s running this fast he’s on to something and that means he’ll leave you alone for a few days, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”  Sam conceded.  “Maybe I’ll actually get to study for my history test.”

“Don’t know why you want to.  You know that stuff backward and forward.  Too bad it’s not that Shakespeare stuff again.  I’d help with that.”

“Dean, you just liked Puck.”

Dean smiled.  “He made her fall in love with an ass dude, what’s not to like?”

Sam just shrugged though and Dean didn’t say anything else as his brother got up and threw his book back into his duffle.  So long as Sam was heading out without a fight, he was ready to relax a little, just a little.  Dean knew that his father would never do anything to hurt them, but with Bobby’s misgivings in his head and his father’s words about safety and hate, he followed Sam out, allowing himself one last lingering look at the only room he’d ever come close to calling his own.

 

 

 

 

“Dad, where are you going?” 

They’d been waiting for it.  For two weeks Sam and Dean had been waiting for their father to try to do something but for all their theorizing and questioning they still didn’t know what it was about.  The look on his father’s face said he was ready to face off against something though, and Dean didn’t have the slightest idea what sort of monster he was hunting. 

“I told you, I’ll be back before long.  Just keep an eye on your brother and keep him safe.”

“You’re just going to go out by yourself?  What if something goes wrong?  I don’t even know where you’re going,” he kept his voice strong, not allowing the fear and concern to color his words.  John Winchester wasn’t a stupid man though, and while some people might question the way he’d brought his boys into the world of the supernatural, no one doubted that he loved them and did his best for them.

John looked at Dean for a second before he gave a visible sigh.  He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.  “Dean, this is… it’s just … something I have to see to.  Don’t worry about me.  You two just stay in and I’ll be back in a few hours.  I promise I’m not going out to hunt tonight,” Dean nodded and then his father was turning away, walking out the door. 

Something didn’t feel right and Dean couldn’t figure out what it was.  His father didn’t lie to him, but he’d never kept secrets before either.  He didn’t know how to deal with that. 

“Dean, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Dean took a deep breath but he was nodding automatically for his brother.  “Yeah, course he will Sammy.”  He looked away from the door and turned to his little brother.  Sam was sitting at the table, a book set out in front of him and his notebook full of scribbled writing to the side. 

“We could watch something?”

There was a hint of insecurity in Sam’s voice and Dean understood that Sam was trying to take his big brother’s mind off whatever was happening with their dad.  Sam might not be as in tune with John as Dean was, but he could read Dean better than anyone.  He knew Sam could read the worry in his body, in the inflection of his words, and his brother was offering to pass up a couple of free study hours to try to help.

Dean smiled as he kicked off his shoes.  “I’ll salt the room, you find something good.”  Dean looked back and saw Sam smiling as he got up from the table.  Long legged and slightly awkward as he was trying to grow into the lean body, he was still muscular and graceful in his own way.  He closed his notes up and shoved them into his school bag with his other books before kicking his shoes off.   

Dean finished up with the salt, making sure a thick line lay over the doorway and windows.  When he came out of the bathroom and dropped the rest of the salt into the duffle he found Sam sitting back against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, flipping through channels.

Dean stripped down, deciding to get comfortable for the night since Sam was obviously giving up the whole night to his entertainment.  He felt a rush of affection for his brother and smiled as he pounced on the bed, making Sam jump with the movement. 

“Find anything yet?”

“Nah, just waiting for you.”

“Anything promising?”

“A few blow ‘em ups.  A B-horror movie marathon.”

“Your pick Sammy.”  Dean said as he sat back, fixing the pillows behind him to the right angle before he settled in. 

Sam chose something with explosions and Dean grinned as he settled in to watch.

“You know Dean,” and Dean knew it had been coming ever since his father had walked out but he just hoped it was short.  “No matter what, you still have me.  I mean, we have each other, right?”

Dean looked at his sixteen year old brother and even with his height and the growing muscle on his frame, with the intelligence and the experience he had, he looked like the little boy who’d curled into his bed, knowing the monsters were real and asking his big brother to keep him safe.  “Yeah Sammy.”  He said, looking at the bed closest to the door where his bag still sat.  He realized as he said it that he was still doing it, still sleeping between his little brother and the monsters of the world.  “No matter what, we’ve always got each other.”

 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001drxe3.gif.html)

 

 

Sleep didn’t fall away easily as the morning light peered through the thin slit at the edge of the curtains.  He wanted to push the pillow on top of his head and drown out the sun’s rays but he knew better than that.  He’d slept in late and there was nothing good going to come from that.  He was too tired to care, but in his sleep addled mind he knew he had to get up and get moving.

He started to sit up but there was an arm around his chest holding him in place.  He groaned, then turned his head to find himself staring down at a wild mop of brown hair.  It felt good, right, to wake up like that and he took a moment to relax into the warmth, to feel the press of hard muscle against his body, the soft tickle of breath against his chest.  When his mind was starting to wake up though he realized he had no idea who the guy was so he tried to move away quietly.  The stranger’s face turned towards him, moving with him to keep him close and he realized the guy in his bed was little more than a kid.  He stared a few minutes longer, taking in the peacefulness that had settled on the kid’s face once he got settled but he knew he couldn’t stay there for long.  Something was bothering him, something was off and he needed to figure out what.

“Hey.”  He finally said, shaking the guys shoulder.  “Um… it’s morning.”

The kid blinked at him, then jerked away suddenly.  He wanted to tell him he wouldn’t bite but he couldn’t remember the kid’s name or how he’d ended up in bed with him in the first place.

Panic flared in the green-gray eyes that were blown mostly to black in shock and it hit home then for him too.  He sat up, deliriously grateful when he realized they were both wearing boxers. 

“Um…”  He didn’t know what to say though.  He could see the kid’s reaction and it was a clear mirror of his own.  “You got a name?”  He asked after wetting his lips a few time.

“I have to, right?” 

He closed his eyes because there was something in him that wanted to sooth the kid no matter that he didn’t know anything about him, anything about himself either.  A wild laugh erupted from his throat and he just shook his head as he opened his eyes and looked at the kid.  “Yeah, we both do.”

“You don’t remember anything do you?”

He thought back to the day before and there was nothing.  He tried to remember a month ago, or his birthday, or his first date, anything, but there was no memory waiting in hiding for him. 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001f93a6.jpg.html)

 

He got out of bed and walked around for a few minutes, the kid’s eyes on him the whole time, then took a seat on the bed closest to the door, covers still straight and free of the mess they’d made of the other.  There weren’t any answers from pacing the room.  There was a bag sitting beside the bed though and he looked at it for a second.

“Think it will tell us anything?”  The kid asked, following his line of sight.  His eyes looked a little wild when he looked up but there was determination there and it got to him more than anything.  If there were answers somewhere, he’d find them.  He couldn’t leave them both in the dark like that. 

“Can’t hurt, right?” 

The kid sat up, moving to the edge of the other bed and watched as he up ended the bag.  Clothes and a few personal items, a large pack of condoms and a handful of astroglide lube packets fell out, but it didn’t say anything really, except that he expected to have a lot of sex in the near future.  He closed his eyes and shook his head because he was sure he hadn’t had sex with the kid last night but them waking together didn’t sit right with the contents of the bag.  Unless he just hadn’t gotten lucky yet.  Unless whatever this was supposed to be was more long term than that. 

He pushed away from that thought because while the kid was sort of cute in the lost puppy dog way, he wouldn’t go after someone that obviously underage.  He didn’t think he would anyway. 

He shifted the clothes aside and his hand hit something hard.  When he wrapped his hands around the cold metal he brought it out to the kid’s surprised gasp.

“What the hell?”

He shook his head, unable to answer.

“Do you know how to use it?” 

He looked up because he had to think about it. 

The kid licked his lips and looked like he was going to throw up.  “Because I’m pretty sure I do.”

He handed the weapon over and watched as the kid checked the safety and then the chamber to see if it was loaded.  He moved to the table then and field stripped it with fast, efficient movements.  To his surprise, he began making notes in his head as he watched the kid do it so he could help him improve his time.  When the kid handed it back to him, he stepped up to the table and did the same with more precision.  He felt natural with the gun in his hand, felt comfortable with his knowledge of it.

“So we’ve obviously done that before.”

“Yeah,” the kid said as he looked at the other things around the table.  There was another bag beside it and he grabbed it.  “Should we open it up?”

“Let’s see if there is anything in there that can tell us something.”

He needed to know something else because he didn’t like the way this was going at all.  The only thing he currently knew about himself was that he was planning on having sex, probably with the underage kid he’d woken up with that morning, was an expert at handing a handgun, and felt the need to correct the kid on his own handling.  He really didn’t like the student-teacher implications but nothing else was making any sense just yet.

“There’s a notebook.”  The kid said, throwing it on the table.  “I’ll see if it says anything.” 

There was a stack of books as well and while the kid read through the notebook, he began brushing through the books.  There were no names written in them and no school name either.

“Hey, I found a name.”

“Yeah?”

“Sam.  Sam Anderson.”

“Anything else?”

“Not yet.  Just found it at the top of a history paper.”

“Keep looking.”

They were both quiet for a while as they flipped through pages.  He lost his patience and began holding the books in the air, letting the pages fan out to see if anything dropped.  Something did on the third book.

He opened the note and stared at it for a minute.

 

 

_Sam,_

_Don’t forget to meet me after third period.  If you get caught I’m not coming in to save your ass and the old man will find out.  Be at the hotel by twelve._

_Dean_

 

 

The kid looked at the note when he handed it to him, then looked back up.  “Nice to meet you Dean,” he said, his grin replacing the uncertainty he’d shown before.

He looked at the note in the kid’s hand and nodded.  The evidence pointed right at them so he decided to go with it.  “Nice to know you Sam,” he said, offering his hand.  They shook and Dean couldn’t help but notice the firm handshake and the calloused fingers.  “So, now what do we do?”

His stomach rumbled and Sam let out a startled laugh.  “I guess we should see if we have any money and find something to eat.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding their wallets had been a bit of a shock.  Dean had credit cards in three names and Sam had two.  Each had two insurance cards issued in different but matching names.  Whatever they were doing they were doing it together.  They had a quick argument about going to the cops, but then they both agreed, with the suspicious things they carried, that they might not be all that welcome at the police station so they decided to try to figure things out on their own first. 

They had cash and credit so they took off for the nearest restaurant, a diner named Jenny’s that advertised the best pecan pie in all of Kansas.  After Dean chatted up the waitress with Sam scowled into his coffee mug they learned that they were in Bismark Grove, Kansas.  They didn’t know what that meant but at least it was a place to start.

“You didn’t see anything in those, your, notes that talked about where we were going did you?”  Dean asked as he took a big bite of pecan pie. 

Sam watched him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he played with his slice of apple pie.  “No.  It’s just school notes and since we didn’t find anything other than your note in my books, I think we’re back to square one.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s next?” Sam asked.

“Next?  I think we need to tear the room apart and see if there’s anything else to find.”

“Like?”

“I don’t know Sammy.”  Dean said, dropping his fork onto his plate.  “I just need to do something okay?  I don’t feel comfortable going to the cops just yet and if there is anything that tells us who we are in that room, it’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah.”  Sam said, setting his own fork down.  “I just don’t know what else we’ll find and I’m not sure I want to know, considering.”

“Considering what?”

“The guns, the credit cards… Dean whatever we’re doing doesn’t seem to be on the up and up.”

“I know Sam.  I know.  We just need to figure it out.”  When Sam looked down, Dean reached out with his fingers, pressing under Sam’s chin to tilt his head back up to look him in the eye.  “We will figure this out.  Until then, we stick together, right?”

Sam nodded, but that small smile appeared again, making Dean feel warmer.  “Yeah Dean, alright.”

 

They cleaned the room out and even called the front desk to see if housekeeping had been through.  Dean was told that their standing order not to be disturbed had been understood and they didn’t need to keep checking up on it.  He hung up the phone, frustrated and angry but at least they knew that no one had taken anything out of the room.

They packed their bags up and Dean noticed immediately how efficiently they did it, military precision he’d call it even if he didn’t know why.  They left the room spotless and other than a large bag of salt and a strange note in the trash basket written in a language they didn’t know, the only other item they found was a set of car keys.  They waited until late to take the keys out and find their vehicle.  When the door unlocked on the sleek black Impala Sam ran his hands up the side smiling while Dean pulled the door open and got behind the driver’s seat. 

The glove compartment turned out to have a box of fake IDs, including a number of badges that made him glad he hadn’t called the police in. 

“Do you think you still want to know what’s happening?”  Sam asked as they went back to the motel room.

“No, but we’re going to find out anyway.”  Dean answered as he dropped onto his bed.  “We don’t know if someone is out there looking for us Sam.  We don’t know who the old man in your note is or why you were sneaking out of class.”

“Don’t we?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just … you don’t find it suspicious that I have a note from you telling me to skip class?  That we have a full set of fake ids and credit cards?  You don’t think that maybe I was meeting you here to run off somewhere?”

Dean closed his eyes as he lay back on the bed.  “Look Sam, we don’t know what was happening and I don’t want to jump to any conclusions.  Did the thought cross my head?  Yeah.  I just…” he wasn’t sure what to say about that.  He didn’t think he’d run off with an underage kid?  He didn’t think he’d press the advantage?  He didn’t know though, couldn’t help but remember how good it felt to have Sam in his arms before he’d been awake enough to process the rest of it.  “I just keep thinking, with the gun and the way you move, it’s military.  I think we should check it out and see if there are any military schools in the area.”

Sam laughed softly.  “Don’t think I’d get around with this hair cut if I was from a military school.”

“No idea how long you had that note.  Besides, this seems too… practiced to be new.”

Sam nodded.  “Maybe when we wake up tomorrow our memories will be back.”

“You really think that?”  Dean asked as he sat up, resting his weight on his elbows.

Sam shook his head.  “Not really.  I just don’t think there’s anything else to do tonight though.  We’ll sleep on it and see what tomorrow brings, right?”

“Yeah.” 

Sam got up and headed for the shower and Dean lay back trying to remember anything new.  Instead of focusing on events or places though, he thought about Sam.  He pictured those shocked green-gray eyes from the morning, the way he had this lazy, almost shy smile that would creep up when Dean gave him a little praise.  Jesus, this couldn’t be what it looked like.  He wasn’t that sort of person.

He was telling himself that as the bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out, steam billowing in his wake with nothing but his damn boxers again.  Water dripped down his chest and Dean couldn’t keep from watching as Sam used a towel to dry his hair. 

Sam leaned over and grabbed the remote, throwing it at Dean.  He caught it on reflex and Sam smiled.  “Nice catch.”

“Good thing, because if it’d hit me in the head I’d pound your ass.”

Sam’s cheeks turned red and Dean realized what he’d said.  He didn’t address it though, anymore than he did getting caught staring at the kid’s chest.  “Preference?”  Dean asked as he turned the television on.  He got up and slid out of his jeans and tee shirt as well, before jumping back on the bed and turning his attention that way.

When he looked at Sam his face was still red and he was looking at his hands.  “Sam?  Preference?”

“Huh?”

“The TV?”

“Um… no idea.  I mean, how would I know what I like?”

Something was wrong and he couldn’t figure out what it was.  He looked at Sam and then around the room.  “This might sound strange, but I think I know what that bag of salt was for.”

“The door?”  Sam asked.

Dean stared at Sam for a second but just nodded as Sam got up and handed it to him.  Dean laid a thick line of salt over the door and window sills before dropping it between the two beds.  Sam was sitting at the edge of his bed by then, playing with the hem of his shorts.  Dean sat down and flipped through a few channels before stopping.

“Okay I haven’t forgotten everything.  I know this is the original Die Hard.”  He said, smiling at Sam.

Sam smiled back as he moved to sit against the headboard, mirroring Dean’s position but Dean could see how tense he was.  Dean looked back at the television before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.  He told himself that he didn’t need to do anything, that they were doing their best to figure this out, but it didn’t keep him from knowing what was bothering Sam anyway.

He didn’t say anything but got up and slid between the sheets in Sam’s bed.  He positioned the pillows just the way he liked them and then Sam was relaxing against his side. It was comfortable after they got used to being close and Dean could feel himself relaxing as well.

By the time the movie ended, they’d long ago turned the lights off.  Sam slid down and nervously rested his head on Dean’s chest.  He let one hand rest on Dean’s hip and Dean tensed at that.  “Dean… we don’t have to… you know… I mean…”

“You always this smooth Sammy?”  Dean asked.

“Shut up Dean,” Sam shot back and Dean could relax into the banter.  “I just want to sleep alright?  Is that okay?”

Dean let his hand come up, running over Sam’s back and sighed.  “Yeah, just don’t hog the covers kid.”

Sam laughed, but Dean could feel the smile against his chest and it was that feeling that kept him up long after the smile had fallen sleepily from Sam’s lips. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They fell into an easy routine once they hit the road, checking out a list of military school in the area.  Dean got the shower in the morning and went for breakfast while Sam slept.  In the evenings Dean salted the windows and doors while Sam showered.  Dean drove and Sam rode shotgun and when it came time to sleep, Sam always curled up against Dean, hand heavy on his hip.

They didn’t know who they were, but settled into the roles of Sam Anderson and Dean Young.  They did know some things that began to make sense, but none of it filled in the blanks of who they were.  For instance, they learned that salt lines were for protection and the Impala had a secret compartment in the back.  They learned that they could hustle pool to make a lot of money and they could cheat credit card companies out of their hard earned profits.  And they knew that they were hunters.

They’d come across a haunting in Kansas on the way to the first school on their list and soon realized that they both knew how to deal with a ghost.  When they started asking each other questions on mythology, they realized they knew how to vanquish more than just ghosts. 

There were other things they learned and decided to just go with.  Like the fact that Dean liked his coffee black and Sam needed three sugars and two creamers.  Dean loved old classic rock stations and Sam lived to harass him about it.  The car had a Kansas license plate and they woke together in Kansas so they assumed they were from Kansas, even if they roamed the countryside going from one dingy motel to the next.

When May second came around though, Dean stopped them at a nicer hotel and told Sam to get ready to go out. 

“Dean, you don’t have to do this.  It’s probably not even real,” Sam said as he dropped his bag on the first bed. 

They never slept in the second bed but it was one of the things neither of them ever questioned.  They always ordered a room with two beds.  It felt natural even if it did cost them more. 

“All your IDs have the same date listed for your birthday so we’re going to go with it.  You gotta have a birthday someday, right?”  Dean smiled as he pushed Sam towards the bathroom.  “Besides, it feels like a good night to celebrate.”

“Alright.”  Sam said with a roll of his eyes.  “You really think the dates are right Dean?”

“The big one seven Sammy.   Look at you, almost a man.”

“Fuck off Dean,” but he was smiling as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

Dean changed into a clean pair of jeans and threw on a green tee shirt and button up.  They’d been hunting pretty hard lately.  Well, they always had, since they woke up that morning, but the hunt had been hard on them lately.  They both needed a night out and Sam deserved something special to celebrate his birthday.  Sam was right.  They didn’t know if it was his real birthday or not, but they had to take some things on faith.  If they started doubting everything, they’d still be left nameless in the motel room in Bismark Grove.

Dean flipped the television on and did his best to ignore the sounds of the shower in the next room.  If he closed his eyes he could just imagine what Sam would look like, water dripping down his chest, suds clinging to his perfect skin.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts.  The last thing either of them needed was him getting into that head space.  Six months of nothing but the two of them and he’d managed to find a way to balance his need to keep Sam close and safe with his other needs.  He knew it pissed Sam off when Dean walked away with other partners, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that.  Sam was just a kid and no matter what he said, or what he implied actually, there was no way he was going to pursue whatever Sam wanted them to pursue.  They were friends though, hell, partners, and Sam deserved a night on the town. 

Dean kept his eyes closed as he heard the shower stop.  When Sam came out of the bathroom and began rummaging through his bag for clean clothes Dean rolled off the bed and began rifling through his own duffle.  When he heard the tell tale sighs of Sam dressing fall away Dean turned back and looked at him.

Sam was wearing a similar outfit to his own, jeans and a tee shirt with a button up over his shirt.  His hair was still wet though it was already combed back, the front flopping over his eyes in a way that made Dean want to lean forward and brush it back. 

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah.”  Sam said as he grabbed for his watch. 

“Catch!” 

Sam caught the package in the air, wrapped in day old newspaper.  “Dean?”

“Happy birthday Sammy.”

Sam ripped open the package and smiled as he stared at the gift.  He dropped the paper and Dean smiled at the uncharacteristic mess Sam left to fall to the floor as he wrapped the new watch around his wrist.  “Dean, man,” he said as he looked down at it.  “Thank you.”

It wasn’t Rolex or anything but it was a good watch, sturdy enough to last even with their lifestyle.  Sam’s current watch looked like it’d been passed down through the years, or had at least come harshly used from a pawn shop.

Dean stood and Sam was suddenly in his space, arms wrapped around him in a quick embrace. 

“You’re welcome,” Dean said, his voice a little gruffer than normal.  It wasn’t much, wasn’t what the kid deserved, but it was something Dean had been able to give and it meant a lot to him that Sam knew that.  He wasn’t sure what else to say so he covered by stepping back.  “Come on.  Let’s find a bar with some loud music, bad lighting, and a bartender than won’t care how drunk I get you.”

“I’m only seventeen Dean.”

“You’re a hunter Sam.  You’re old enough to get drunk.”

Sam laughed at his logic but Dean smiled with him as they walked out the door of the motel.  A few questions at the front desk and Dean was sure he knew the best place to go. 

The bar was called the Last Resort and it was literally the last bar on the road out of town, the street running past another mile into the county border.  A dry county. 

The guy at the door seemed more interested in trouble than legality and didn’t even bother with IDs.  The bartender looked at Dean when he ordered two beers, tilting his head slightly at Sam.  “You keep him out of trouble and I’ve got no problems with this.”

Dean nodded.  “No problems.  We’re just here to drink quietly in the corner.”

The bartender poured the beers, then handed off two rounds of shots as well.  They took the first shot at the bar, Dean smiling as Sam grimaced at the liquor going down his throat.  The second shot was taken back to a booth in the back.  Dean had a good view of the bar from where he was and a quick escape through the back into the parking lot if they needed it. 

Sam sat across from him in the booth, smiling like a lunatic.  It wasn’t the smile of a young kid getting away with drinking in a bar.  It was the smile of a young man just enjoying himself, relaxing and letting himself go.  Dean couldn’t help but smile back.

“Happy birthday Sammy.”  Dean said as he tipped up the second shot glass.  Liquor sloshed slightly as the glasses clinked together and then the second shot was downed.  Sam chased the shot with a long pull from his beer but Dean just watched the way his throat worked the cool drink down.

“Pool?”  Sam asked as he set his glass down.

“Not here to hustle tonight, just to celebrate.”

“Good, then I can kick your ass on the table and not have to worry about playing it down.”

“In your dreams.”

“If you’re afraid to find out Dean…”

Dean rolled his eyes at the obvious bating but since Sam wanted to play he wasn’t opposed to it.  He just wanted to make sure it was about Sam and not anything else and he wanted Sam to know it too.  They had little enough to really celebrate and Dean was crap when it came to expressing how he felt.  He hoped that focusing on Sam for the evening would explain what he couldn’t.

When Sam stood, smiling down at him, Dean was certain that it did.

 

The balls broke easily and then the game flew by.  They were both good and Dean could see how much Sam pulled back when they were someplace with a lower age limit and a few beat up pool cues to get a few bucks. 

Sam laughed often as they played, taunting and ribbing Dean for each shot.  It was just another game really, one that they were just as well practiced at.  By the time they stumbled back to their table, the locals had taken to betting on which of them would win.  Dean won three of four games before they handed the table off to someone else, Sam pulling along side him as they settled back into the booth.  The bartender sent the waitress over with two more beers and Sam pulled his closer, taking a long drink before smiling back at him.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.” 

Dean opened his mouth to tell Sam it was the only one he’d ever had, since neither of them remembered any others, but he stopped at the look in Sam’s eyes.  There was something there he’d never seen before, something he wasn’t sure he was reading right.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and tipped his glass to Sam’s to stall a moment longer.  When he trusted his voice, he smiled.  “You're welcome.”

 

  

 

 

 

“Dean, seriously, you need to let me behind the wheel sometimes.”

Dean scoffed as he held the door for Sam, walking up to the counter of the motel.  “I’ll let you drive when you can learn how to handle it.”

“I can handle you.”  Sam said with a pout that made Dean smile harder. 

“Can I help you?”  The woman behind the counter asked, a smile firmly placed on her lips. 

“A room for the night please.”

“King or Queen?”

 “Two Queens.”

The woman leaned forward and Dean did the same.  “You really shouldn’t make him sleep alone tonight.  My mama used to say it was no good going to bed mad, best to make up and get on with the making up before bedtime,” she added with a wink.

Dean looked stunned but Sam stepped in before he could say anything.  “Two queens please.”

She looked at him with sympathetic eyes and while Dean was trying to get past her words Sam managed to get the room booked and was walking out with the keys.  Dean wanted to take a few extra minutes to show the receptionist just how wrong she was about them, but the stiffness in Sam’s back made him think staying any longer would be a mistake.

Sam already had their bags out of the Impala and was just about to close the door when Dean walked in.  “Hey, what was that?”

“What?”

“You walking out on me back there?”

“Sorry Dean,” he said with a sarcasm that was anything but sorry.  “I didn’t want to stick around and listen to you convince her you weren’t here with me.  I get that you could do a lot better Dean, but I’m not gonna sit there and watch while you rub it in my goddamn face.”

Dean took a step back at the verbal onslaught, completely blindsided by Sam’s words.  “What the hell?”

“Come on Dean, I’m not stupid.  Whatever got us together, for whatever reason you and I live this life, we do it together.  We don’t know what it used to be, but we both know the implications of how we woke up that first morning.  Of how we wake up every damn morning!  I don’t know why you think you can’t be with me now, maybe I’m not good enough or you were just using me to begin with, I don’t know but I’m tired of pretending to be okay with you fucking your girl du jour and coming back after to slip into the sheets with me.”

“Stop it Sam.  It’s not … it’s not like that.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m not… we aren’t lovers Sam.  We hunt together and we’re good at watching each other’s backs.”

“Really?  That’s it?  We just watch each other’s backs?”

“Yes.”  The real answer was hell no, but he didn’t know how to say it.  He didn’t know how to say what was happening in his head anymore than he had any other night.  When Sam was around everything was complicated.  Dean would rather die a hundred times over than watch Sam get hurt.  When he came home from those girls, sated but empty, it was Sam, curled up into his side that curled up into the empty places in his heart.  He couldn’t though, wouldn’t cross that line. 

“Then you won’t mind watching my back tonight.”  He said as he stripped down into his boxers and slipped into the bed closest to the door, his back to Dean.

“Sam,” he had nothing to argue with, nothing to convince Sam not to turn his back to him tonight though, so he kept his mouth closed.  He turned onto his side, watching Sam’s body as he moved quietly on the bed.  He knew how long it took his friend to fall asleep and then he lie awake listening to his breathing, trying to control the urge to crawl into the other bed and pull Sam close.

The next morning Dean got up early and found a bakery instead of the usual diner, bringing back bagels for Sam.  He wasn’t apologizing or anything because he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he couldn’t stand it when Sam was mad at him.  It was just a peace offering. 

Sam took it with good grace and neither mentioned the fight.  Neither slept alone the next night though, Dean slipping into bed with Sam as they watched reruns.  When Sam fell asleep leaning against Dean’s side, he just slid him down the mattress and wrapped him close in his arms.  It felt good that way, having his boy close, even if he didn’t know what the hell to do about it all.

 

 

 [](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001drxe3.gif.html)

 

Dean swore as he looked through the open window, watching and waiting for the right time.  He knew the secret now, even if he hadn’t when they’d first found the small pack of vampires that was slowly draining the migratory working population.  They’d been smart about it and it had just been happenstance that Sam and Dean were driving through to a haunting when they’d stopped for the night.  They woke the next morning to a girl banging on their door asking if they’d seen her brother.  Sam had noticed the other missing person notices plastered to the poles as they’d walked to the diner for breakfast.  The girl was no older than fourteen but something about her made Dean think of Sam, or maybe what Sam would have been like if he’d woken in that motel room a year ago alone.  It made him think of Sam lost and desperate and needing someone to take care of him.  It made him look into the local disappearances and that had brought him to the vampires.

They’d caught three unaware but as much lore as there was about vampires, most of it seemed to be false.  It wasn’t until they’d taken Sam and left someone behind to kill him that Dean learned the real trick of vampires. 

It was almost dawn.  He didn’t know if vampires were afraid of sunlight or not, but since most of their activities happened during the night he figured there might be something to the myth.  Then again, as he watched them, it could just be that they liked to party late.

They had Sam tied to a concrete pillar at the back of the abandoned warehouse.  It’d been a paper mill once, before the town had dried up to nothing.  Now, it was just a hang out for vamps and their victims.  One of the females moved across the room, all swaying hips and sexy stares as she approached Sam.  He wasn’t the only victim strung up, but he was the newest and the only one that still seemed aware when they approached.  She smiled seductively at Sam and though he couldn’t hear the words his partner spoke, he could see the way her smile turned into a hateful glare as she got closer.  He wanted to cheer Sam’s bravado but he also wanted to strangle him.  Did he really need to piss off the vampires when he had to know that Dean would be coming to get him?

It might have made her angry, but Sam’s words didn’t halt the vampire’s progress.  She pressed a hand to Sam’s chest and Dean felt his jaw grinding in an effort to remain still.  She pulled out a small knife and Dean found himself ready to move, damn the consequences.

“You going in there alone?”

Dean jerked away from the window to face the newcomer.  The shotgun was pointed at him but Dean ignored it for the man himself.  Older, with a grizzled face and graying beard, the man seemed more curious than angry.

“Unless you’re offering to join the party, it looks like I am.”

“You’d be a damn fool for it.”

Dean smiled.  “Probably.”  He looked back at the window and caught the glimpse of Sam’s shirt being cut from his chest and his anger hardened.  “They have my partner in there and I’m going in to get him out.”

The other man pulled the ball hat off his head and settled it back in place.  “Looks like you won’t be alone then.  You know how to take these things out?”

“Beheading.”

“Yep.  It’s a pretty messy business.”

Dean just looked at the man for a minute.  “It’s about to get messier.”

The guy dropped the gun then and held his hand out.  “Bobby Singer.”

“Dean Young.”

“Good to meet you Dean.  Now, you got a plan?”

“Yeah, go in and get Sammy.”

The guy snorted and Dean looked up, a half smile on his face.  “They’ll go to sleep soon.  So long as they don’t mess with Sam too much before then, I figured I’d head in, let him go, then start chopping heads off.”

“And if they mess with the boy too much?”

Dean flinched at the term boy.  He didn’t think of Sam like that really, not as someone too young for this life, but he was.  Sam was just a boy, caught in a life he probably didn’t really want, and Dean was the lecher for keeping him close because he couldn’t stand the thought of being without him.

“I’ll kill them all before they get a chance to hurt him.”

The other hunter nodded as if he’d expected as much.  “Alright.  You keep an eye on the window.  I got something a little better than that pig sticker you’re carrying around.”

The guy left and Dean didn’t bother watching.  He wasn’t a vamp; he’d been watching them well enough to know their numbers.  He wasn’t local either so Dean was more than willing to let him help, if only because it improved his chances of getting Sam out of there alive.

He turned his eyes back to the window and took a deep breath, steadying himself for the sight.  They knew the routine.  According to the medical examiner, the bodies all had multiple puncture wounds before the blood loss killed them.  They liked to play with their food for a few days.

The fact that he knew they wouldn’t kill Sam just yet didn’t make it any easier though as he watched the woman wrapping her arms around Sam’s broad shoulders.  One hand forced his head to the side while she sank her teeth into Sam’s neck.  He made himself watch the pain that crossed Sam’s face, watched as the vampire writhed against him as she fed.  It was more like sex than any feeding Dean had ever seen before, the way she licked at his open flesh, her hands dancing over the tanned skin of his chest, fingernails scraping over his nipples and causing his body to react.  Sam jerked from the touch but the vampire threw her head back, laughing like it was a joke. 

Cold metal touched his forearm and Dean looked up to find Bobby Singer staring into the window as well.  His voice was gruff as he watched the scene.  “Soon Dean.  We’ll get him out and we’ll kill them all.”  
 

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001f59g1.jpg.html)

 

They waited for full dawn when the others had fallen asleep.  It was a close thing and only Bobby's steadying presence kept Dean from going after Sam whenever a fanged freak touched him.  
  
"Remember boy, these things don't forget you.  You go in there to kill because once they get your scent they'll never stop hunting you," Bobby whispered as Dean gripped the handle of the machete Bobby had brought back for him.   
  
They crept in a small side door after Dean bent down and picked the lock.  His fingers shook slightly as he did it and he repressed the loss he felt that Sam wasn't there to do it, his nimble fingers would have made much quicker work of it.  When Dean looked up though, Bobby was giving him an approving nod.  
  
They didn't speak as they entered, moving silently into position.  Dean stood beside the vampire elder and watched as Bobby cut the rope that loosely bound Sam's feet to keep him from kicking out.  When Bobby had his hands free Dean raised the machete high, bringing it down to sever the head cleanly from the neck.  
  
The woman beside him woke in the wake of blood splattering across her.  She threw herself at Dean but he was already swinging his arm around.  She closed the distance between them too fast so the machete hit flesh but without the force he needed to hack through the bone.  She fell to the ground screaming, clutching at her ruined flesh and Dean didn't give her another chance to recover.  He ignored the sounds of another fight as he brought the blade down again, silencing her shrieks.   
  
When he looked up Bobby and Sam were standing back to back, on the floor around them were the beheaded corpses of the remaining three vampires.   
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Yeah Dean.”  
  
Dean was held in place by Sam, looking at the young hunter, trying to determine if he was okay, if this would be their last hunt, if Sam would ever trust him to watch his back again.  He couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop imagining her hands on his chest and the way his body moved involuntarily.   
  
Sam nodded as if he knew Dean was still in that place.  “I'm good."  
  
It brought Dean out of it and he took a deep breath as he started moving.  "Let's get you the hell out of here."  
  
Dean wrapped an arm around Sam's waist and felt relieved as Sam put an arm over his shoulder, letting him help him to the car.  He grabbed the first aid kit and took care of Sam’s neck, dropping his bag of clothes on the seat beside him so he could get fresh pants and a shirt while Dean went back in to help Bobby.  Bobby had already brought out two of the victims, still alive but not responding to anything.  The other five victims were dead and Dean helped Bobby salt their bodies, leaving something to identify them with in a pile outside the warehouse beside the two live victims so their families would know some part of the truth.  Dean went back inside after that, taking anything of interest and setting the fire on his way out.  They called 911 for the two victims and waited around until they could hear sirens before leaving, turning down the old side streets to keep from being seen by any of the emergency vehicles.      
  
They drove for a half hour before Dean felt safe pulling over.  He ran into the gas station and got juice and water and any other snack he thought would help Sam recover from the blood loss.  When he came out Sam had his long legs stretched out in front of him, talking to Bobby.  He pulled a juice out of the bag and opened it, putting it in Sam's hand.   
  
Sam looked tired and still pale but other than that he looked good, the distance between them and the vampire's lair making the earlier haunted look fade.  Bobby looked them both over and Dean could see the question in his eyes over the way Dean stood protectively close to the younger man.  He couldn't give an answer to that question so he ignored it.   
  
"Bobby, thank you for your help back there."  
  
Bobby took Dean's offered hand and smiled.  "Gotta do something to keep the idjits at bay,” Bobby winked at Sam.  "Don't think he'll tell you but I thought Dean was gonna go through the window a few times to get to you.  It's not everyday you find a partner in this business that's so willing to back you up."  
  
Dean glanced at Sam and couldn't help but feel warmed by the look of adoration there.  "Yeah Bobby.  I know how lucky I am," Sam said softly.  
  
Dean cut off anything else by moving to the other side of the car.  "We need to get some miles," he said as he opened the door.  "Bobby,"  
  
"You have my number.  Call me if you need anything.  And let me know you aren't dead every so often."    
  
Sam pulled the older man close and Dean could see the embarrassment in the hunter’s face though he held Sam tight just a second and he knew the old man appreciated it.  
  
They were barely five minutes on the road when Dean looked over to see Sam's eyes drooping.  He forced the smile from his face.  "Go to sleep Sammy.  We'll stop early tonight, get some real food and you can stretch out on a nice bed."  
  
"Thanks man."    
  
It was the end of the conversation as Sam let himself go and Dean was left alone with his thoughts and too vivid memories. 

 

 

 

 

 

Dean stopped them midday and took Sam in a family restaurant.  It wasn’t the best place but it was better than diner grease and Sam could order one of those salads he liked so much.  Dean ate his BLT more out of habit than hunger, but he kept at Sam to finish his food, reminding him he needed the nourishment more than usual.  Sam rolled his eyes, but he kept eating.

When they headed back out, Sam’s color was beginning to return but he was asleep fifteen minutes later.  Dean let him go; knowing Sam needed the time to heal and to deal with what had happened to him.  Dean had been there, watching, and he knew he was going to have a hard enough time with it on his own. 

When the sky turned dark around them, Dean pulled them into a steak house.  They were both cleaned up well enough and though Sam looked sleepy, his collar hid the bandage well enough that no one would really notice anything different about them.  They ate quickly, thick steaks with all the trimmings.  Dean might have liked to have enjoyed it a little bit more, to take his time and make the most of the expensive meal, but Sam needed a bed more than the atmosphere and Dean really wanted to look at his neck again and make sure it was healing well. 

The hotel was better than their usual fare as well, not high class but nice.  Dean asked for a room at the back and then he was parking the Impala where it would be hidden from the road.  They were on the second floor so they went up the stairs, Sam protesting as Dean took both their bags up. 

The colors in the room were muted and there was a small refrigerator stocked with drinks.  There was room service, blankets that were soft, and a shower with actual water pressure that looked clean enough to sit down in.  Much nicer than their normal establishments.    

Sam walked straight in and dropped onto the mattress of the second bed, sighing deeply as he stretched his arms up above his head.  Dean’s eyes slide to the patch of skin that showed beneath Sam’s shirt and he looked away quickly before Sam could catch it.  He grabbed the first aid kit out of his bag and dropped it on the night stand. 

“Let me take another look at that.”

Sam stretched a minute longer before sitting up.  He pulled his shirt off over his head and Dean kept his eyes on the kit, pulling out the tape and bandage he’d need to knit the kid back up again.

Dean knelt between Sam’s legs and began gently pulling the old bandage off.  He kept his attention focused and didn’t allow himself to dwell on the mangled flesh or how close he’d come to losing Sam this time.  Steady fingers gently redid the bandage and as the last piece of medical tape was applied, Dean let his fingers trail softly across the wound.  He couldn’t help himself then as he turned his hand, the back of his knuckles brushing across Sam’s exposed collarbone.  He heard Sam’s quick intake of breath but couldn’t look up.  His fingers travelled the path the vampires had earlier but Sam’s body was leaning into his touch where he’d pushed away from her.  He let his nails scrape over Sam’s nipples and then down his abs until he was gripping Sam’s hips in his hands.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was shaking as he said it, a prayer and a plea.

 He allowed himself to look up then, to see the man in front of him.  Sam’s eyes were wide in surprise but there was no doubting the heat that waited for him.  When Dean leaned up, Sam met him half way, lips crushing together as Dean tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair, angling his head into a better position.

Sam’s arms wrapped around Dean, pulling him closer.  When he licked his way into Sam’s mouth the younger man moaned, his lips opening to Dean’s ministrations.  When Sam’s arms pulled him, Dean went up onto the bed and found himself on his knees, still between Sam’s legs, his body pressing the other man down into the mattress.

“Sammy,” he tried to stop himself, tried to pull away from what was happening.  He’d fought so hard to control this thing between them, warred with himself for the last year, knowing that once he did this there was no going back for Sam.  At first, they hadn’t known each other, just two strangers waking up in a bed together, but over time he’d come to understand Sam, to know that if he let this thing happen that he was tying Sam to him irrevocably. 

He looked up at Sam and saw the one thing he’d refused to let himself see before.  Sam was already tied to him, every day, every hunt, every injury, every thing that Dean did tied the younger man closer to him.  Just as he understood that since the moment they woke up, Dean had tied himself to Sam.  There had never been any denying this, not for the long term.

“Dean, please,”

When Sam’s hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him back down, Dean went willingly.  He kissed Sam gently, enjoying the ebb and flow that was so dynamic between him and Sam, something he never allowed himself to do in random one-nighters.  He learned the taste and feel of Sam’s lips, explored his tongue and teeth and delved as deep into his mouth as he could before drawing back and tracing the path of his jaw.  He moved down, kissing across Sam’s collarbone and then learning the path of skin that lead to his nipples.  He licked across one, using the flat of his tongue and Sam arched under him.  He used the tip of his tongue to circle the flesh again before sucking lightly, loving the feel of the hardened nub against his tongue.

Sam was writhing underneath him and Dean continued until he was sure the vampire’s touch was completely gone from his mind.  He trailed Sam’s abdomen with his lips, leaving a trail of warm breath and moist kisses across his skin until he could bite at the curve just above Sam’s hipbone.

“Christ, Dean,”

Dean looked up at Sam and smiled at the wrecked look on Sam’s face.  The heat between them seared the air as Sam’s white knuckled fingers clutched the blankets.  His eyes were blown wide, the green-gray almost lost to the blacks and his lips were beautifully bruised. 

Dean didn’t say anything as he looked his fill, didn’t say anything as he realized Sam was staring at him just as intently.  When Dean reached down and began to work open the button of his jeans though, Sam’s eyes closed and he bit his bottom lip.

Dean worked the pants over slender hips, taking all of his remaining clothes with them.  He left a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed and then Dean was leaning back to where he’d been, licking at Sam’s hip before moving lower.  He reached out with one hand, taking Sam’s cock with it, licking across the head as Sam began to swear.    

He licked his lips and paused, looking up the younger man’s body.  Sam was staring at him and Dean smiled mischievously as he opened his mouth and took Sam’s cock into his mouth.  Sam’s head dropped back to the bed and he moaned loudly as Dean’s warm, wet mouth encompassed him.  He worked his way down the length, licking and sucking until Sam was pulled at him, pulling him up and to his lips.

“Wanna come with you inside me.”

“Gonna come now if you keep saying things like that,” Dean teased, but Sam’s hands were already working his shirt off his shoulders.  He pulled the tee shirt off quickly while Sam was undoing his pants.  He stood and let them fall to the ground in the puddle of Sam’s clothes. 

He grabbed his bag quickly, feeling the press of Sam’s eyes on his body as he moved to get the condoms and lube from his bag.  Sam didn’t say anything when Dean dropped them onto the foot of the bed, but pulled him back into his kiss. 

Dean reached out blindly for the lube and cracked it open without looking.  He’d never been with a man before, but he’d seen enough porn in his life to know how this worked.  He coated his fingers liberally and then he was reaching between them, fingers teasing small circles around Sam’s opening. 

Sam’s legs fell wider apart, giving Dean better leverage to play and as he pressed one finger slowly in, Sam pulled his head back, leaving his lips at Dean’s temple.  He could hear the shaky breath that escaped Sam as he pressed in up to the first knuckle.  

He pulled back and nudged at Sam’s nose with his own until those green-gray eyes met his.  He worked slowly, easing his finger in and out before he added a second.  Sam’s hips were rocking back and forth into him and Dean had to keep himself from rubbing himself off against Sam’s pale skin. 

“Dean, now,”

He didn’t question Sam, but he pressed a kiss to his lips as he removed his fingers, wiping them across the bedspread as he reached for a condom.  Once he had it on, he leaned forward, one hand beside Sam’s head, the other guiding him into Sam’s body.

He could see the pain in Sam’s eyes but before he could pull back, Sam clamped a hand around Dean’s arm, keeping him in place.  “Want this,” he said softly, his voice deeper than Dean had ever heard it. 

Dean nodded and Sam let go of his arm, running his hand up the expanse of his neck and shoulders.  Dean pushed in again and bit back a groan at the feel of Sam’s tight warm heat encompassing him.  He let his eyes skim over Sam’s body, took in the way his fingers bit into Dean’s skin as he pressed in, the way his hips raised to meet him, the way his tongue wet his lips.  It was too much and as he pressed in the final distance, he crushed his lips to Sam’s. 

Sam’s arms pulled him tight and then Dean was catching the moan from Sam’s mouth as he slowly rolled his hips.  When he pulled out most of the way, he pushed back up to watch Sam’s face.  He pressed inside again and Sam closed his eyes with the movement.  There was no pain in Sam’s response and Dean pulled out again, snapping his hips back into his lover. 

“Fuck Dean, yeah,” Sam’s reaction to Dean’s harder thrust made him repeat the action, pulling out slowly, feeling every inch of drag and give,  before slamming in hard.  Sam was gasping underneath him, his words a slurred litany of ‘God, yeah, Dean’ and ‘fuck, harder, want it’.  Sometimes it was in English and sometimes Latin.  Sometimes he couldn’t tell if it was a language or just a blend of sounds as he pounded into the tight heat of his body. 

His own words weren’t much more coherent.  It was all ‘Sammy’ and ‘fucking perfect’ and ‘fuck, need this’ because even this far gone he wasn’t sure he could tell Sam how much he needed him there with him.  He knew Sam understood, knew without the words, just like Dean knew Sam felt the same.  It was just too much to say it and now they had one more way to express it.

Dean could feel the pleasure building and he reached between them, stroking Sam’s cock as he changed his angle, hitting just the right spot to make him arch up off the bed.

“Dean, fuck, please…”

He leaned closer, catching Sam’s eyes again and he watched as his lover’s orgasm hit.  The look in his eyes, the love and trust that lay in those depths was enough to send Dean over.  He tried to lean down and kiss Sam, but his lover’s hands were on his face, holding him still, their eyes connecting as Dean’s hips continued to press into him, their orgasm pulsing between them.

When Sam’s eyes finally closed, Dean’s whole body was shaking with the exertion to keep himself upright.  He slowly pulled out of Sam’s body and got up, disposing of the condom before cleaning himself up.  He looked into the other room and saw Sam still on his back, one hand scratching idly at the space beside him, as if contemplating if Dean would take his customary place in bed that night.

Dean looked back into the mirror, wondering when he’d lost control of all of this so completely.  Had he always been so completely lost when it came to Sam?  Or had he lost his ability to handle him when he’d lost his memories?  When had his intention to keep Sam safe become partnering for hunts and sleeping with him?  When had Dean lost his moral compass so completely that he was willing to sleep with an underage boy who had nothing else in the world to lean on, but Dean and a life full of nastiness he should be protected from?

His hands grabbed for the wash cloth and he found himself wringing it out under warm water.  He was at the edge of the bed before he realized what he was doing, but taking care of Sam seemed to be as ingrained in him as breathing.  Part of him wanted to run, to find the nearest bar and the nearest pair of arms and forget the feel of Sam, to try to gain back that small part of himself that he’d been able to keep, but he already knew it was useless. 

Anything he’d had to hide from Sam had been in his eyes the moment Sam had held him close, there for Sam to witness.

Instead, he took the warm cloth and began wiping across Sam’s abdomen.  He ignored the way Sam was watching him but he couldn’t help the shiver that wracked his body as Sam’s long fingers began to stroke up and down his back. 

He threw the wash cloth into the bathroom, heard the wet splat of it as it fell from the edge of the counter onto the floor.  He got up and moved to the other bed, pulling back the crisp white sheets and slid between them, taking a moment to enjoy the soft fabric before he looked over at Sam.

His lover was watching from the other bed, disappointment clear in his eyes.  Dean gave Sam a small smile, the most he was capable of just yet, and pulled back the blanket and sheets.  “Don’t know about you, but I’d rather sleep in the clean bed.”

Sam’s smile was brilliant, dimples coming out in full force and Dean figured that right there was where his so-called control had disappeared to.  Sam jumped out of the other bed and climbed in beside Dean, his head resting over Dean’s heart as he relaxed.

“Not going anywhere Sam,” he said, pressing his lips against Sam’s temple. 

Sam sighed and Dean could feel him smile against his skin.  “Me either Dean.  We’re in this together.”

It said so many things, but mostly that Sam understood Dean and he couldn’t help but pull Sam tighter to him in response.

When he fell asleep that night with Sam breathing against his neck it was to the feeling that everything in the world was finally going his way and the opposing fear that it was all about to fall apart under his feet.

 

 

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The world didn’t fall apart.  In fact, hunting with Sam after that became even better.  Without Dean taking off every few nights with whatever pair of arms he could find, Sam didn’t mind being in the bar.  He seemed to enjoy watching Dean’s back when he didn’t have to leave alone at the end of the night.  There was a lot less tension between them but when it was there, they both knew what it was.  And the sex was amazing.

Sam was passionate about everything he did and his curiosity and energy followed into the bedroom the same as it did everywhere else.  There was nothing Sam wouldn’t do or try and if Dean had ever had a more responsive lover he couldn’t remember it.  It still bothered him, from time to time, that Sam was young, but Sam always reminded Dean that he was only four years older.  When he pressed about getting Sam back into school, Sam countered by suggesting he get his GED since they didn’t know what he’d been doing at school anyway.  It was a compromise, but Sam took to the studying like he did research for a hunt and he passed the GED with flying colors.  When pressed about college though Sam had pushed Dean back against a wall, kissed him senseless and told him he was right where he wanted to be.  After a staggering blow job, Dean had let it drop.      

Hunting together had become their life, living in each other’s pockets, bad motel room after bad motel room, and Dean didn’t think he’d ever been happier.  He didn’t think he could be even if he regained more than a year and a half of memories.  He just didn’t believe it was possible to be more content than he was.  He had his car and he travelled all over the United States, he made a difference in people’s lives in ways that most people could never imagine, and he had Sam, a loyal partner, lover, and best friend. 

They got to know a few more hunters, developed a bit of a network of their own, mostly people that Bobby Singer knew and hooked them up with from time to time.  Bobby was a brilliant hunter, an intriguing combination of tough love, southern comfort wisdom, and book learned archaism.

“Dean?  Where are you boys at?” 

Dean looked up at the ceiling, wishing he’d just ignored the ringing of his phone.  There weren’t that many people that had his number though, so he figured it was important.  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Bobby, it was just that they’d had a late hunt the night before and a hard time coming down from it so he’d managed to get about three hours of sleep before the phone rang.

“Hey Bobby.  Um, we’re in Michigan.  Why?”

“Good.  I got a friend out in Ohio that needs some help.  You don’t have anything else lined up do you?”

“Nah, what’s going on?”

“He thinks he’s got a pair of werewolves.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Like howl at the money, silver bullets, man turned monster werewolves?”

“You make it sound like it’s a good thing.”

“Of course not,” Dean said, looking down at Sam.  Sam had his chin propped up on Dean’s chest, eyes still half lidded but aware enough to listen in.  He covered the phone with one hand.  “Werewolves Sammy, how awesome is that?”

“Dean?”

“Yeah Bobby.  When and where?”

“Can you be there tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah we can make that.  Just email Sammy the time and place and we’ll be there.”

“Thanks Dean.  I owe you boys.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep meaning it.  Just… take it easy with him Dean.  This guy is a bit of a loner.  He’s got revenge in his head and the rest of this is all just practice for him.  He’s not used to working with other people and he tends to piss people off at the drop of a hat.”

“Nice guy.  We’ll get on fine Bobby.  Sam and I will get the job done, regardless of what type of ass this guy is.” 

Sam smiled at that, then dropped his head back down to go back to sleep.  The Ohio border wasn’t that far and they still had some time to sleep in.

“What’s his name?”

“John Winchester.”

 

 

 

 

 They got up in the afternoon, not well rested, but rested enough for the road.  Sam got the address and then they were on the road, take out in the front seat and miles between themselves and the rhine maidens they’d destroyed. 

They only stopped when the Impala needed gas, getting out to stretch their legs and refuel on snacks.  When they got to Franklin, Ohio it was already dark so they stopped at a motel and checked in for the night.  The drove to the diner they were supposed to meet Winchester at in the morning and grabbed dinner.  They went to bed early that night, trying to get their rest before what would probably be an aggressive hunt. 

The next morning they were both feeling more energetic.  They were at the dinner early, having breakfast as they waited for the other hunter to show.  Sam was talking animatedly with his hands and it was one of the ways Dean could tell that his lover was well rested and ready for the next hunt.  The more tired or hurt Sam was, the less energy he used to tell his stories.  Dean really liked the way Sam used his hands, hell his whole body to tell a story.  He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore because his eyes were too focused on Sam’s lips. They were too close together, seated side by side as they waited in the booth for the other man.  He knew he had a goofy grin on his face as he listened but then Sam stopped talking and tilted his head.

“Are you listening at all?”

“Of course Sammy.”

“To what?”

“You were talking?”

“About what?”

“Not a clue.  I was distracted.”

“By?”

“Your lips.”

Sam looked away for a second but Dean already knew the blush that would be tingeing his cheeks.  When Sam looked back at him there was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.  They might not be overly emotional or affectionate all the time, but Dean never hesitated to tell Sam when something he did fascinated him. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something but then he stopped, looking up as a shadow crossed their table.

Dean looked up and found himself staring at the grizzled remains of a man.  He might have been attractive once but now his face was lined with a scowl that seemed perpetual, and he gazed at them with eyes that looked like there was no light left in the world.  They’d met other hunters like that, but they never survived long, too caught up in their need to kill something that they usually got themselves killed pretty quickly in return.

This man was like death walking, a study of a warrior in search of his final battle. 

“Winchester?” Dean asked in a soft voice, trying not to spook the man.

“You’re Young and Anderson?”

“Sam,” Sam held his hand out and the other man took it, albeit hesitantly.  “And this is Dean,” he said as the other man took a seat across from them.

Dean nodded as the waitress came over with coffee for Sam and Dean and brought a quick mug over for the other hunter as well.  He placed his food order and then the waitress was off, leaving them alone.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but Bobby didn’t say anything about babysitting rookies.” 

Dean could see Sam dump another packet of sugar into his coffee, joining the two creamers and other two sugars he’d put into the once black liquid, a smile on his lips at the reaction from the older man.  He stirred it all up, licking the spoon and smacking his lips loudly as he sat it down on the napkin.

Dean shook his head, a smile creeping out as he rolled his eyes.  “One of these days Sammy boy, we’ll make a man out of you and then they’ll have to come up with something original to say.”

“We’ve been hunting together for almost two years,” Sam answered as Dean sat back, drinking his coffee.  “Never needed a babysitter, though I suppose we could always make an exception and watch your geriatric ass.”

Dean nearly snorted into his coffee, but managed to keep his reaction under control.  Barely.  It was a common problem for them when meeting hunters for the first time.  People might look at Dean and think he was a bit young for the game, but they thought Sam was a downright child.  That normally didn’t last past the first hunt and they were beginning to get a reputation but that didn’t change anyone’s initial reaction.  Especially not in a community so full of superstition and mistrust.  He watched the other man’s reaction to Sam and was relieved to see a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough.”

“You think Bobby would stick you with rookies on something like this?”

“If he thought he could get away with it.”

“Yeah?”  Dean looked over at Sam and Sam shook his head with a smile.  “Yeah, he probably would.  We haven’t faced down werewolves yet, but we’ve been around Winchester.”

“It’s John,” the other man said after he regarded them for a moment.  “Guess we’ll see how you do tonight then.  When we finish eating I can take you back to my motel and show you the research I’ve got on it.  We can check out the site of the last attack to get you familiar with its hunting grounds, and then we’ll try to track it tonight.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“Really?”  Sam asked.

“Well, you know, we’ll go to his motel and you can look at his research.”

“What’s wrong with you looking at it?” John interrupted.

Dean shook his head.  “Nothing at all.  I’m more of a doer though and Sam is the researcher.”

“Meaning Dean has the temperament of a bumble bee when it comes to research.  You saw something you liked last night?”  He asked, ignoring John for a minute.

“Yeah.  You pinpointed the other two attacks last night and I saw something I wanted to look at this morning.  You can fill me in on the rest when I get back.”

“Gonna let me in on where you’re going?”  John asked, his face one part annoyance and one part amusement. 

“Don’t worry, Sammy will protect you from the big bad wolves until I get back.”

The waitress chose that moment to come back with their plates, Dean and John with the breakfast special and Sam with his toast and fruit and egg white omelet.

“Hunters don’t eat like that,” John noted as he grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate.

“Hunters don’t normally live long enough to worry about cholesterol.  I plan to be the first.”

John let out an honest laugh and the tension that had been slowly dissipating around their table was completely gone.  Dean joined the laughter even as he let his hand slide under the table and squeeze Sam’s thigh gently.  There were a lot of reasons Dean liked to have Sam around.  The back up and the sex were only part of it.

 

 

 

“Sam!” 

Sam turned without hesitation, his gun firing into the mass of fur that was riding down on them.  Dean was struggling to keep John upright as they moved through the dense forest.  The werewolf fell to the ground as Sam’s bullet finally took it through the heart and Sam rushed to the other side of John, trying to help Dean. 

“Need to get the last one,” John was saying.  Dean wasn’t sure how he was still talking.  He’d been thrown by the bigger of the two.  Dean didn’t know if he’d broken something or not, but John couldn’t put any weight on his leg.  The uneven terrain made it harder to try to get John out even with Sam helping him.

“We will,” Dean reassured the man.  “We’re getting you to the car though.  Not going to leave you sitting out there in the open while we track this thing.”

“You should.  Leave me as bait.”

Dean looked over at Sam and he could just hear his lover’s response over John’s labored breathing.  “And Bobby calls us idjits.”

“Keep moving.  It’s not gonna come slow when it finds its mate down,” Dean said, adjusting his grip on John’s waist.

“Least we’ll hear it coming.”

“We hope.”

They moved quicker with Sam helping them and they were almost to the car when they heard the blood curdling howl from behind them.

“Looks like he found her.” 

Dean didn’t bother to answer Sam, just continued to push until they were at the Impala.  They propped John up on the hood where he could sit with a clear vision of the forest around him.  Dean handed him his shot gun and then he and Sam were circling the clearing, listening for any signs of where the beast might come from.  And come it would.  Everything John told them about werewolves said it would come after its revenge. 

There was no warning this time as the monster tore out of the woods, making a leap for Dean.  Sam must have seen it before Dean though because he was knocked off his feet by his lover.  The beast went skidding on the small gravel turnout and growled into the air as it turned to face them.

Sam and Dean both rolled to their feet, side by side with their weapons drawn. 

“You alright?”  Sam asked without taking his eyes from the beast. 

Dean knew what it cost him to trust Dean on that, to ask instead of look, to keep facing the werewolf instead of checking Dean over, so he nodded quickly.  “Nothing so bad as rug burn.”

He heard Sam snicker at the inside joke, something stupid and inane but Dean hated rug burn.  After a particularly rough hunt and an even rougher night of sex to prove they’d made it out alive, Dean admitted he hated the rug burn more than the twelve stitches Sam had sewn into his skin that night.

“Rug burn later, werewolf now,” Sam answered as he took aim. 

They both fired and the beast came charging towards them.  John was at an angle to fire as well and Dean heard the sound of the shotgun.

He wasn’t sure which one of them hit it, but Dean and Sam both rolled in opposite directions as it plowed into the ground at their feet.  It twitched where it fell and Sam and Dean both unloaded their weapons into it, Sam firing into the brain as Dean turned it over and began firing straight into the heart.

“I think you got it,” John said, a faint smile on his lips as they walked away from the beast. 

Sam was already opening the secret compartment in the trunk and reloading his weapon when Dean joined him.  He handed his gun to his lover and Sam took it, handing Dean the newly loaded gun.  Dean shoved it in the waist of his jeans before grabbing the salt and accelerant. 

“Artifacts out here?”  Sam asked as he closed the trunk, his gun tucked away already. 

“No one is likely to find it here.  We’ll mail it on the way out.”

“What are you boys talking about?”  John asked.

“We don’t like to salt and burn the victims without letting the families know something happened to them.  When we can, we just leave their personal affects at the scene for someone else to find.  When we can’t, we take them to a mailbox on the way out of town and send them to the police,” Sam answered as Dean threw salt over the body.  It was already turning human and it would only take a few more minutes before they’d be able to get what they needed and burn the bodies.

“That’s gonna bite you in the ass some day,” John said with a shake of the head.

“Maybe, but I can’t imagine having someone I love missing without ever knowing what happened to them.  At least the families will know they aren’t coming home.  There will be a printed note telling them about the fire in the woods and then they’ll be able to come out and see it themselves.  It’s the best we can do.”

“Come on Sammy.  Let’s get the other one.  It should be ready to burn by now.”

Sam followed him into the woods and they were barely out of sight of the other hunter before Sam had Dean pushed up against a tree, his hands feeling over Dean’s chest.  “Take it off,” Sam ordered and Dean didn’t fight him.  He shrugged out of his jacket and Sam’s hands were all over him, looking for blood and injury.

“I’m alright Sammy.  Told you, I’m fine.”

Sam’s eyes were slightly frantic and Dean knew something else has spooked him tonight so he caught the younger man’s face in his hands and pulled him in, kissing him deep and rough.  When Sam’s hands fisted in his shirt he just held on until Sam was relaxing in his arms.  “I’m alright,” he said again and this time Sam huffed slightly as he stepped back.

“Yeah, I just.  Jesus Dean.  Could you do it?  Could you be like that old man out there, nothing to live for but revenge?”

Dean shook his head.  “Won’t ever have to find out, will I?”

Sam smiled at that.  “Nope.  If I die before you I’ll haunt your ass.”

“Come on Sammy, let’s finish this.”

The first werewolf had already taken on its former form, Nora Endlas, supermarket clerk and mother of four.  Dean took her personal affects like he always did, not wanting Sam to have to look at the humanity in the beast they had killed, and put them in the bag he’d brought.  They salted the body then and lit her up, knowing that it was better to burn her now to keep her from coming back to haunt the living.

Dean took the affects of the second victim when the other was well lit.  They set him on fire as well, leaving only a wallet, his keys, and his watch to bare witness to the fate of Charlie Morlan.

Sam got John settled into the back of the car and then they were off.  “Emergency room?”  Dean asked the rear view mirror.

“Nah, I got a friend.  I’ll call him over once I get to the motel.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  I might have made a nuisance of myself at the hospital when I went looking at the bodies.  The staff will remember me and they don’t like me much.”

Dean chuckled at that, but he drove on past the hospital and to the motel where the other hunter was staying.  They got him settled into his bed and listened as he called for help.

“Looks like the way you organize things,” Sam said with a smile, looking at the way everything was taped up on the walls of the room.

Dean smiled because it was almost exactly the way he would have put it.  He understood the way John thought and that suddenly bothered him.  When John hung up Dean looked over at the hunter.  “Where’d you learn this?” He asked, breaking one of the main tenets of hunters.  You never asked a hunter how they got on the job or how he worked.

John’s eyes hardened a minute before he looked away.  “Here and there.  A hodgepodge of everything I learned from anyone else.  Throw in some good old detective shows too.”

“And you’ve never met us before this hunt?”

Sam looked up at him in surprise and John’s normal blank face was covered in surprise.  “You’d think you’d remember meeting me before, don’t you?”

“Yes or no.”

“No, I haven’t met you before.  Why the hell are you asking me that?”

He could see the understanding in Sam’s eyes and he hated it for a minute, not knowing where he’d come from or what might have happened to them.  He left it alone most of the time, let the sore scab and scar until it was just another wound on his body, but sometimes the goddamn scar itched all to hell.

“Doesn’t matter.  Just had to ask.”

John started to open his mouth but then Sam jumped in.  “You’re sure you’re okay like this John?  We can stay and wait for your friend.”

“Nah, he’s skittish and doesn’t like a crowd,” John said, letting himself get distracted from the questioning. 

“Then I guess we better head out,” Sam said, motioning Dean to the door with his head. 

Dean nodded as he walked forward and offered John his hand.  John shook it and then Sam’s when he came over.  “You boys ever need back up, you know where to find me.”

Dean smiled because he knew John wouldn’t offer if he thought they were going to get him killed.  Considering the man’s gruff nature he figured it was as good a compliment as they were ever going to get from him.

“You too.  Never know when your geriatric ass might need carried out of the woods again.”

John laughed as they walked out and Sam was smiling.  When they got to the car, Sam pressed a kiss into the crook of Dean’s neck quickly, an affectionate gesture that rocked Dean hard for its simplicity and unexpectedness. 

He looked at Sam and Sam looked back, smiling. 

“What was that for?”

“We’re alive.  We’re together.  You need anything else?”

Dean turned the keys and started the Impala, smiling as he pulled out of the motel parking lot, ready to head to their own.  He shook his head as he watched Sam out of the corner of his eye.  “Just a little rug burn.”

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001drxe3.gif.html)

 

They didn’t talk to John after that, but Dean and Sam both thought they’d come off well from the experience.  John’s journal had been of interest to both of them and Dean spent a lot of time jotting down his memories of their hunts to organize them into a coherent book of his own.  Sam added what he could, as Dean would write it down in his own black leather-bound journal Sam would add in anything else he’d come across, often setting down extra research that Dean didn’t remember because it hadn’t helped them in their actual case, though it might be of interest to others. 

Bobby said their names were out in the community now and that they were welcome, as if working with John Winchester had somehow gotten them the stamp of approval, regardless of their age.  No one asked how they had come to be in the business so young and they didn’t share their own lack of understanding in the matter. 

Sam still researched it from time to time, throwing out tidbits that he found about memory loss and what could cause it when they came across something, but they didn’t have enough information to figure it out.  Mostly, they just ignored it, continuing with the hunt that had been the only thing they knew upon waking.

Sam’s eighteen birthday passed quietly.  They didn’t go to the bar as they had for his seventeen or for Dean’s twenty second.  Sam’s legal coming of age didn’t mean anything special to Sam but it meant something to Dean so Sam let him do what he wanted.  What Dean had wanted was a nice hotel, a big steak dinner, and Sam naked underneath him. 

He couldn’t explain it to Sam.  He couldn’t tell him that he’d spent a year waiting for Sam to regret this, to want a way out and have nothing because he wasn’t old enough to be on his own and had to put up with Dean until he was.  It didn’t make any sense because he knew better than anyone that Sam could take care of himself regardless of the age factor, but it didn’t stop the doubt that crept into his mind from time to time.

At eighteen, Sam could do anything, be anything he wanted to be.  He had his GED and a wallet full of cash and credit that would see him to the other side of the country if he wanted.  Instead, he was with Dean, his voice broken and pleading for his lover, begging for more.  Dean didn’t disappoint him; in fact he’d almost made him lose his voice.  For Sam’s eighteenth birthday, Dean gave him the night of his young life. 

 

 

 

 

 

It was just another day really.  

“Sam?  You find what you were looking for?” 

Sam shrugged.  “A lot of bad things happened in that house Dean.” 

His voice was softer than normal and Dean wanted to take the pain of that from him, but there was nothing he could do.  They couldn’t help the dead, but they did what they could for the living.  “Think we can take care of this thing tonight?”

He led Sam across the street to the park.  There were a lot of people out, couples walking together, kids running with their parents, dogs running with their owners.  It was the type of thing that calmed Sam, to see people living their normal lives because they kept the monsters at bay for them.  It had some advantages for Dean as well, a hot dog stand with amazing chili dogs and an ice cream truck that went around every twenty minutes.  He knew because he’d been sitting there for the last three hours while Sam was doing research, trying to talk to the two witnesses of the ghost on Hendericks Avenue.

“I hope so Dean.  The attacks are escalating.  If we don’t get it tonight I don’t think this ghost is going to be happy pushing people around.  It wants blood.”

Dean nodded as he grabbed Sam and pushed him back into a small area of the park.  They could look out onto the larger field but it was one of a series of small cut aways that were intended to give a little privacy. 

“Dean?”

Dean pressed Sam back against one of the trees and kissed him.  Sam’s hands were curled into his shirt a second later, pulling Dean closer.  He could feel the tension in Sam’s body and he knew it wasn’t the type of tension he could get rid of so easily, but he could remind Sam of why they did what they did, of what they had in each other.

When Sam pulled back, his forehead resting against Dean’s, he had a faint smile on his lips.  “I’m okay Dean,” he said softly. 

“Course you are,” Dean said, allowing himself to nuzzle up against Sam’s ear for a moment.  It was a small show of affection and one that Sam would appreciate.  His lips were at the tip of Sam’s ear and he smiled into the next words.  “I’ve got you.”

Sam laughed then and Dean let himself be pulled down to the ground.  Dean put his back up against the tree trunk and Sam sat there for a little while, his head pillowed on Dean’s thigh as they watched the people go by in silence. 

When Sam was finally relaxed, he sat up and looked back at Dean.  “There were three murders committed in the same house, all children Dean.  It could be any of them haunting the street.”

Dean sighed and understood now why Sam had been so tense.  Having to dig up and burn three bodies was going to be a nightmare and not because of the digging.  Dean hated when it was kids.  It was just harder to look down into a child’s coffin and do what you needed to do and Sam knew that Dean wasn’t good with this.  He liked children even if he knew he’d never settle down and have any of his own. 

“Sam,” he reached out a hand to try to express his gratitude, knowing that Sam was worked up for him, that all the extra research had been about trying to make this easier for Dean. 

Sam didn’t look up at him and Dean knew something wasn’t right, beyond this hunt.  He watched helplessly as Sam clutched his head, his whole body tensing up.  Dean grabbed him and kept him from falling over, but he wasn’t even sure Sam was aware of it.  “Sammy?  What’s happening?”  Sam didn’t respond and he was about to call 911 when Sam’s hands gripped Dean’s arms, leveling himself off. 

“Dean?”

“I’m right here Sammy.  What’s going on?”

Sam’s eyes were pained but clear now and he looked at Dean in confusion.  “I don’t… I don’t know what that was.”

“Tell me,” he said it as gently as he could but nothing would hide the order in those words, no matter how much concern they held.

“I… I think… I saw a baby Dean.  I was in a nursery and there was a demon there.  He was just … watching this baby.  I think it was a vision Dean.”

“A vision?  Like a psychic see the future kinda thing?”

“I don’t know.  The demon was wearing older styled clothes.  I’m not sure but…” he looked at Dean like he knew he was crazy.  “I think it was in the past.”

Dean put a hand to Sam’s face.  “Come on Sammy.  We’re going back to the motel.”

“Dean, no, I’m okay now.  Really.  Just let me relax here a little while.”

“Sam,”

“I’m okay.  I just want to rest.”

Sam was pushing his way into Dean’s chest, leaning back into him so hard that it knocked him off balance and his back hit the tree trunk with a thud.  Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and just burrowed into him like he was child who needed protected from the nightmares.

Dean wanted to take him away from the park and anything that could possibly touch him, but Sam knew what he needed.  Instead, he enveloped his lover in his arms, murmuring comforting platitudes that meant nothing but that would let Sam know he wasn’t alone, no matter what was happening.

He didn’t know how long he held him before he realized Sam was asleep.  It was even longer before Dean let go.  
  

 

 

 

“I don’t know why we’re here Sam,” Dean said honestly as he walked around the neighborhood.  “If this is something from the past, it’s not like we can do anything about it.”

Sam shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I just feel like, maybe, if I come here, I can get some kind of peace with this thing.  Maybe I could actually sleep through the night.”

“That’d be nice,” Dean said with a shake of his head.  Since the first vision Sam had of the nursery scene, they’d come more frequently until Sam was waking from it every night.  The ones during the day put him in enough pain to knock him to his knees and he’d even started to get nose bleeds.  Bobby hadn’t heard of anything like that, but he was reluctant to ask around too much.  Hunters could be funny about anything to do with psychics.  And demons.  It was why they were in Lawrence, Kansas, walking around the neighborhood Sam was sure he was seeing in his dreams.

“I can’t help it Dean.”

“I know Sammy.  I don’t blame you for this.  I just… I hate not being able to stop it.”

“Can I help you boys?” 

Dean stopped as they came face to face with their speaker.  She was a short woman, larger framed but with a sense of confidence about her that made Dean uncomfortable. 

“Just walking through the neighborhood,” Dean said, giving her his best smile.

“Uh hu.  I think you two had best follow me.”

“And you are?”  Sam asked.

“Missouri Mosley.  I knew something was coming to see me today, I just didn’t know what.  Good thing I had a cancellation.”

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“Don’t you stand around trying to talk back to me Dean.  You and Sam have come a long way to find out what is happening to him.  I expect you to keep up.”

Sam just shrugged when he looked over at him, so they did as they were told, leaving behind the house that made him think of white picket fences and a wife and children and a life he’d never have.  He looked at Sam and smiled, more than okay with knowing this was his lot in life.

Missouri told them to follow her and Dean did, just a few blocks over to her house where a sign in the front lawn proclaimed her a psychic.  It was tastefully done, not the type that you saw used by most charlatans who wanted to use glitz and glamour to fool people. 

She set them in her parlor and there was an old world charm to the place, a warmth that made Dean think of chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven and long evenings on a porch swing.  When she came in with a pitcher of sweet tea Dean poured for all three of them. 

Dean watched the other two as they drank.  Sam kept his eyes down as if he was suddenly ashamed of something and Missouri was watching him with open interest.  He didn’t like the look in her eyes, like she knew something that neither of them did.

“So, a psychic huh?  Most come in handy with the lotto.”

“I know you’re skeptical Dean, and I’m willing to give you a little slack because of your concern for Sam, but don’t think I won’t find a long wooden spoon and paddle your ass if you disrespect me.”

Dean was taken back by the words but Sam actually smiled.  “You said we were coming to see you.”

“You have a powerful gift Sam, one that can sometimes be a curse.  There aren’t that many true psychics in the world and we’re drawn towards one another.”

“I just… I only have this vision.  It’s from the past.”

“Your mind is trying to show you something you need to know,” Missouri said.  “Does the baby look familiar, or the house?”

“No.  I mean, we found the house today, but it’s not something I recognize.”

She reached out and took Sam’s hand in hers but dropped it immediately, her eyes wide.    “Dean, give me your hand.”  She held hers out and it was only Sam’s beseeching look that made Dean drop his hand into hers.  She dropped it just as fast.

“Oh boys,” she said sadly.  “Something has ripped a part of you, something strong took from you and the only thing left in its wake is the hole it left behind.”

“Our memories,” Dean said softly to Sam.

“What do you mean Dean?”  Missouri’s voice was soft but there was steel behind it, an order draped in concern.

He sighed as he looked at Sam but his lover was no help.  He wanted to trust the lady and Dean wasn’t sure he had it in him to fight it.  They were both too tired.  “We woke up in a motel room, a little over two years ago.  Neither of us had any memory.  We realized pretty quickly that we were hunters though and we’ve been hunting together ever since.”

“No memories at all?”

“None.  Hell, I don’t even know if my name is Dean.”

“That might explain it then,” she said looking at Sam.  “Your gift, it’s trying to help you fill in the void that’s been left in your spirit.”

“By showing me a demon hovering over a child’s bed?”

“You said you saw what happened in the past.  I can’t help you much Sam, but I can tell you that if your gift is trying to show you this thing, you had best listen.  Maybe what you need to know is tied in with that child.”  She took his hand again but Dean saw the slight flinch as she did so.  “I can tell you this though.  Until you figure it out, you won’t find peace.”

 

  

 

 

They were out on the street again, the Impala roaring under his hands before he opened his mouth.  “So, we investigate the house.  Like we were going to.  What was the point of all that if she was just going to tell us to do what we were already doing?  This is why no one believes in psychics Sam.”

“At least I have someone to call now.  I know she’s there if I have trouble.”

Dean nodded.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“Come on Dean.  I’m exhausted and all I want to do right now is sleep.”

“Library in the morning?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.  Let’s see what we can find out about that house in the morning.”

 

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001drxe3.gif.html)

“Holy shit.”

“Dean?”

Dean stared at the computer screen, ignoring the way the librarian was scowling at him.  “Sam, I think we have a problem.”

“What is it?”

Sam looked up from the musty city records and a part of Dean wished he’d agreed to play with the building plans instead of doing the background check. 

“I think you need to look at this.”

Sam stood up and leaned over Dean’s shoulder, scanning the article the same as Dean had.  “… the fire appears to have been caused by an electrical malfunction though the fire department could not confirm what appliance would have caused the fire to start and burn so hot in the baby’s nursery ….  Mary Winchester died in her sleep, leaving behind her husband John and two sons, Dean and Sam.”

Dean waited for it to sink in and then Sam looked at him.  “John Winchester?”

Dean scrolled down and there at the bottom of the page was a picture of the family.  It was no doubt that they were looking at the same man.  He was younger, with a large smile and his arms around his wife.  His oldest son was on his other arm and the baby was in his wife’s arms.

He waited another second for Sam to take it the rest of the way.  “Sam and Dean?”

Dean nodded.

“You don’t think-”

“No, I don’t.  But I figure we need to do some more snooping before we move along.”

“Yeah.”  Sam said, his eyes looking a little wild as he sat back in his seat next to Dean.  “Yeah.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Good to see you boys.”

Dean gave Bobby a half smile as he let the older hunter pull him into a one armed embrace.  He pushed past a second later and then Sam was wrapping both his arms around Bobby, like always.  Some things never changed.

When Sam pulled away, he moved past Dean, making a beeline for the fridge.  He came out and handed them each a cold one and managed to do it all without looking Dean in the eye. 

Well, some things did change.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what brings you two to town?”

“Something personal,” Dean said softly.  Sam looked up at him and there was a small moment of connection before Sam looked away again. 

“We found some information that says that Dean and I might be-“

“We need someone else to look at some information.”  He said, cutting Sam off before he could say it.  The words hung between them even though Bobby didn’t understand just yet.  They did.  They knew what it was saying and it was enough to put the distance between them.  “We’ve got some background information and it seems to be leading us straight to one thing.  I just want another set of eyes on it before we start putting any faith in it.”

“Alright.  Let me see what you’ve got.”

Bobby led Dean into the kitchen and Sam didn’t bother following.  He went into the study, pulling random books from the shelves.

“And Sam isn’t interested in this because-”

“Sam’s pretty sure he knows what this is all about.”

“Okay.” 

Dean handed Bobby the file with everything they’d copied in Lawrence.  “So we ended up in Lawrence, Kansas looking into a house.”

“Lawrence?”  Bobby asked.  “This is about John?”

“I don’t know.  The house was his though.  We were looking for a child who used to live there.”

“John’s business was bad Dean.  When he first showed up, trying to find the demon that had killed his wife, we all thought he was gonna die within a few weeks.  Proved us all wrong.  One of the best hunters out there now.  Best if you ask some people.”

“A demon killed his wife?  I thought she died in a fire.”

He could feel Sam listening, could see from his peripheral how Sam’s fingers were no longer brushing over the words as he read.

“A fire yeah, but not like they said it happened.  John wakes up to his wife screaming and goes to find her pinned on the ceiling.  She was bleeding from the stomach and then fire enveloped the bedroom.”

“Nursery.”

“What?”

“The nursery.  The article said she died in the nursery.”

“They didn’t have any kids,” Bobby said with a frown.

“What the hell?”  Sam asked as he stopped pretending to stay out of it. 

“Look, I’ve known John about as long as anyone and I know I’m one of the few people he’s trusted over the years with the full story.  John and Mary were hoping to start a family some day, but they didn’t have one.  There must have been an error in the report.”

Sam looked at Dean and Dean just looked right back.  When Sam dropped his eyes, Dean looked at Bobby.  “Just… read the file Bobby.  Gonna get some shut eye.”

“You know the way.”  The hunter didn’t even bother to look up as he began opening the file.

 

 

 

Sam followed him up, though Dean wasn’t sure why.  It wasn’t like Sam would touch him.  They slept in separate beds now and on the few occasions Dean had actually reached out to his lover Sam had flinched away like he was some sort of pariah.  It’d been two weeks since that day in the library and Dean wanted to break something, to kill something, to burn something beyond recognition.

He pushed into the spare room that Bobby let them use and Sam was still on his heels.  Dean walked in, trying to ignore his lover.  Former lover.  Whatever.  He looked out the window overlooking the back of Bobby’s property.   

“Dean,”

He grasped the edge of the window frame and leaned in.  “What Sam?” he asked, anger pushing out to Sam because he wouldn’t let Dean do anything else.

He heard Sam’s soft sigh but he was even more surprised when Sam came up behind him, dropping his head to rest between Dean’s shoulder blades.  “Dean,”

His heart was pounding and the silence was heavy between them.  He couldn’t break the moment though.  He knew if he reached out he would just be rejected again and he couldn’t keep taking it, not from Sam.  It was all in Sam’s court and Dean was just floundering around, waiting to see what he would do.

“I miss you.”  The words were soft, barely a breath but he could feel it down his spine and he closed his eyes against the ache of it.  “I miss touching you, waking next to you.  I miss being yours.”

“Sammy, don’t.”

“I have to.  I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need you.  I don’t … I don’t think I can stop this Dean.”

Dean pushed then, pushed away from the wall forcing Sam to fall a few steps back.  “What do you want Sam?  Huh?  Because I don’t know what they hell you think you need anymore, but you sure as hell haven’t been worried about what I needed the last few weeks.”

“I know.”

“Do you?  Do you know what it’s like to have the only person that matters in the whole fucking world reject you?  Pull away when you’ve done nothing wrong?  No.  You don’t, because no matter what I was thinking or feeling Sam I would never cut you out of my life like that.”

“I know.  I can’t stop thinking about that file Dean, about John, about us being-”

“We don’t know anything Sam.  We agreed to let Bobby take a look and see what he thought.”

“You think it matters Dean?  Do you really think keeping me from saying it will make this any better?”

“Don’t Sam.”

“Why?  So you don’t have to face up to what I have?”  Sam crossed the room quickly, angry strides taking up the distance as he pushed Dean back against the window, hovering over him.  “You think I want to think about it Dean?  Want to think about all the times we’ve been together, want to remember every goddamn moment of that with this in my head?  It’s why I couldn’t… I just … Dean …”

His voice broke and it was more than enough to break Dean.  Because he hadn’t lied.  No matter what Dean was feeling inside, he’d always take care of Sam first.  “Sammy.  We’ll figure this out.  Somehow, we’ll get through this.”

Sam looked up at him and Dean didn’t have time to turn away before Sam’s lips were crashing into his.  Sam held him in place like Dean would actually try to run.  He didn’t want to run though, couldn’t run from Sam and the way he felt about him, but Sam had lost his faith in that.

When Sam pushed at his jacket Dean let it fall from his shoulders.  He wasn’t sure what Sam wanted, but he was going to give it to him anyway.

He toed off his shoes as he pushed at Sam’s coat, felt Sam stumbling over his shoes as well and they were pushing and pulling towards the bed.  He pulled Sam’s shirt over his head and nearly collided with the bed post because Sam decided to blind him by removing his shirt too.  They were fumbling for belt buckles as they fell onto the bed and then they were naked, Sam on top of him, pressing him hard into the mattress.

Dean managed to get his hand up and as Sam kissed him, he caressed his face, his thumb running up and over his cheekbones again and again.  It gentled Sam, calmed his movements but there was nothing peaceful in their joining.  Sam didn’t let Dean prep him, just slid down Dean’s cock and rode him slow and steady, eyes closed with his head thrown back.

It was too much though and Dean grabbed for him, pulling him back to his lips, and then flipping them over so that he was in control again.  Sam let him, his face turned to the side as Dean thrust in and out of his body.

When he felt his climax building, he used one hand to pull Sam’s face to his.  “Look at me Sammy.”  His lover didn’t open his eyes but Dean didn’t stop.  “Damn it Sammy, look at me, you owe me that much.”

He understood his mistake then, knew instinctively that he should have let Sam look away but it was too late and as Sam came over his hand, Dean fell down the hole, painting his lover’s insides.  He felt the tears running down his face and watched in horrid fascination as Sam’s fell as well.

He pulled away a second later and Sam turned onto his side, pulling away as much as he could in the small confines of the bed.

“Why?” Dean finally asked because he’d given Sam just what he wanted and he deserved an answer.  He deserved to know why Sam was saying good-bye like this.

“In the morning, someone will say it.  Tomorrow I can’t hide behind not knowing.”  Sam got up then, dressing quickly.  He paused at the door and Dean didn’t want him to go, didn’t want him to stay either, but more than anything he didn’t want to hear the next words out of Sam’s lips.  “Tomorrow, Bobby will have to tell me that I’m in love with my big brother.”

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001drxe3.gif.html)

 

He didn’t sleep that night, not with Sam’s words in his head, the feel of him still clinging to his body as he stared up at the ceiling.  There was nothing that was going to make it any better though so when dawn came, Dean didn’t try to hide from it any longer.  He got out of bed and got cleaned up, dressed in fresh clothes and took the longest walk down Bobby’s stairs that he ever had. 

Bobby and Sam were at the kitchen table, the file spread out between them.  Bobby looked up in askance as he held the phone against his ear with his shoulder.  Sam was hunched over something but Dean figured it was just a way to keep from looking at him since they both knew that file inside and out already. 

“Wait, Elkins had what?”  Bobby was looking at the phone like it’d suddenly grown a rattle tail.  “No, it wasn’t with his…” there was a pause as he listened to the other end.  “I was there John.  Hold on.”

“Dean,” Dean looked up at Bobby as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  “You keep all that stuff we got from the vamps the day we met?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Any antique guns in the lot?”

“Three of them.  You need something?”

“Yeah, I might.  Got ‘em with you?”

“I’ll grab them.”

He grabbed the keys and headed out for the car.  He knew right where they were.  Hell he and Sam could probably find their weapons blindfolded.  He took all three and headed back inside.  Bobby was still on the phone when he got back in.  Dean set the guns down and Bobby took one instantly. 

“Holy shit John.  He has it.”

Dean looked at Sam for some clue as to what was happening but his lover was staring at the picture of John Winchester and his family before fire had taken his normal life.

“We’ll meet you there John.”

When Bobby hung up he looked at the gun in his hand one more time and passed it back to Dean.  “I know that was a little out of line, telling John you’d come with the gun, but it’s important Dean.”

“I trust you Bobby,” Dean said as he took a seat at the table.

“I’ll explain about the gun on the way.  Probably need to head out of here in a few hours, but I figure we need to take a look at this first.”  Bobby pointed to the papers in front of them.

“Yeah.”

“You know what it all leads to.”

“Yeah.”

“Just want to hear it from someone else?”

“I don’t know Bobby.  It just doesn’t make any sense to me.  Why don’t we remember anything?  If … if that’s true then why doesn’t John know us?  Hell, why don’t you know that he has sons?”

Sam’s head snapped up at that.  It was the closest either of them had come to saying it.

“Maybe you just took their identity?”

“Why isn’t the name Winchester on our IDs then?”

“Because you kept the identity and made other false ones to work with.  I don’t know Dean.  You want my opinion? I can come up with all kinds of reasons for you to have used those names, but I think the most obvious answer to this is the right one.  Whatever happened to you and Sam, you are Sam and Dean Winchester.”

He closed his eyes and didn’t need to hear the footsteps to know Sam was walking down the hallway.  He didn’t need to hear Sam to know he was emptying his stomach.  He didn’t need to look down to see the understanding in Bobby’s eyes. 

What he needed was to get the hell out.  So he did.  He got in the car and started driving.  He drove until he couldn’t see, tears so thick in his eyes that the road blurred and he was in danger of damaging his beloved Impala. 

He pulled off the side of the road and it was only then he could let go of the tears he’d been holding back for the past two weeks.  It was only then he could admit that he’d known all along what the night before was about.  It was only then that he could try to find the courage to say good-bye to the man he loved and try to figure out a way to be a big brother.

  

 

 

 

“Bobby.”

“Dean.  I was beginning to get worried.”

“Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath.  “I just… can’t… “

“Look, I know this is a shock to you, but John’s really in over his head and I need to know I can count on you.  The demon that he’s been hunting for eighteen years is making itself known and we have a chance at killing this thing.  We need that colt though and we need you.”

“What’s the deal with the Colt?”  Dean asked, trying to take his mind off Sam.

“According to legend, Samuel Colt made a gun for a hunter.  The gun was supposed to be able to kill anything.”

“And John thinks that’s what I’ve got?”

“Yeah.  Elkins was a hunter we knew and he spent most of his life tracking the damn thing.  Vampires must have taken it from him when they killed him.”

“And we got it when we saved Sam.”

“Yeah. “

“Do we know if the stories are true?”

“Elkin believed.  I saw the security he had for that thing Dean.  I don’t know how the vampires got past it, but Elkin believed it was the real thing.”

“Guess we’ll find out then.”

“Yeah.  You coming back soon then?”

“Bobby,”

“He’s going stir crazy pacing in your room Dean.  Don’t think I can talk him down from this.”

“And there’s not a damn thing I can say that will make this easier.  Time and space Bobby.”

“And the hunt?”

“Just… tell me where to meet you and I will.  Bring Sam.  He and I will work this out after we get this thing.”

“You sure?”

Dean let out a small bitter laugh.  “No, but it’s all I got right now.”

There was silence for a while and then Bobby took a deep breath.  “I’ll call you with the address.  See you in the morning Dean.”

 

 

 

 

The door was unlocked and Dean could hear something happening behind it so he didn’t hesitate to enter.  Bobby and John were both standing over Sam, looking at one another with shocked expressions as Sam grabbed his head, nose bleeding.

“Sam!” Dean yelled his name as he pushed past the others, already knowing if the blood was flowing that Sam would be hit hard enough he wouldn’t be able to stand.  “I’ve got you,” he said as he pulled Sam close.  Sam’s knees buckled on cue, as if Sam’s will had been holding him together and with Dean there he knew he could let go of that burden.

He managed to get Sam up onto the bed.  He wasn’t sure whose hands were helping but as soon as Sam was laid out Dean was beside him and Sam was leaning into him.  “What do you see Sammy?” he whispered into his ear, rubbing soothing circles over his lower back.

“Blue house.  Night.  Demon in the baby’s room.  Not the Winchester house this time.  He’s coming for the baby.”  Sam shuddered and Dean knew Sam was almost through it. 

“When Sammy?”

“Calendar says…” There was a pause and Dean knew it was because Sam was searching for the information, trying to find it in his pain addled mind.  “tonight.  He’s coming tonight.”

“Where?”

“Blue house.  Rail road behind it.  School across the street.”  Sam opened his eyes and stared up at Dean.  “Sorry, s’all I got.”

“You did good Sammy.  Real good.”  He said, barely stopping himself before he placed a kiss on Sam’s forehead.  Sam seemed to realize that their normal routine wasn’t such a good idea anymore either because he pulled away from Dean quickly, turning over onto his other side.

Dean took a deep breath and when he looked up Bobby and John were watching him from the kitchen table.

“So…”  John said slowly.  “That was…”

“Sam has visions,” Dean was trying really hard not to think about John being there.  About the possibility that the man was his father.  “So we need to look for a blue house that has a train out back and a school across the street.”

Bobby nodded as he pulled out the area map that John had been working off of.  He began looking for railroad tracks.

“He gonna be okay?”  John asked.

Dean nodded.  “Yeah, when they get bad though he has to sleep it off a while.  Makes it worse when I have to ask for information, takes something out of him to try to look back into it and find what he missed the first time.”

“Sounds like a curse.”

Dean’s narrowed his eyes as he looked at John.  “Got you the location of your demon didn’t it?”

John didn’t answer.  Instead, he turned to the map to start helping Bobby find the likeliest place.  They left Dean to take care of Sam, leaving a monster to care for their innocent so they could hunt another monster.  Dean wanted to cry at the irony of it all.

 

 

 

 

The house was like every other house on the block, outside the color.  The neighborhood was entirely bland and it was just another example in Dean’s mind to show why the normal life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. 

They were at the top of the stairs, watching, listening for John and Bobby to send word down to them.  Sam hadn’t talked to him since he’d woken up from his vision-induced sleep.  He was as determined as Dean to show they could get through this hunt though so they were standing on the lower landing as Bobby and John approached the nursery.

“Really, I’d have thought you’d come more prepared than this,” a voice said from beside them. 

Dean felt himself thrown through the railing and he was rolling to the floor, trying to get his breath as pain shot through his lower back and legs.

Sam was tossed down the stairs, the demon pausing momentarily to stare at the other man before he turned into the rooms.  John and Bobby obviously heard him coming but they were still outgunned when the demon began tossing around his power.  They didn’t do any better, being thrown down to join the boys in the living room.

“Look at what an interesting opportunity we have here,” the Yellow Eyed Demon said.

“Go to hell.”  It wasn’t original but it would work, Dean thought.

“Oh, Dean… sweet Dean.  You’ve been a pain in my ass for a while now.  I think I should remedy that.” 

Dean screamed as invisible knives tore at his chest. 

“Stop it you son of a bitch!”

 To Dean’s surprise, he did.  The demon stared at Sam and Sam stared straight back.

“This might just make up for what you’ve done tonight,” the demon said, coming over to Sam as an invisible force brought him to his feet.  “I can feel you Sam, I feel you like you’re one of my own, but I can’t find anything about you.”

The demon pressed closer to Sam and Dean struggled to his feet.  The demon touched Sam’s face and Sam screamed.  Dean could feel it as well, his heart pounding, his lungs on fire, his chest heaving, and the feeling that something was being ripped from the inside out.  When the pain subsided he realized he was on his knees again, blood dripping from his mouth.

“Poor Sam,” the demon said as he watched the others fighting against whatever hold he had on them.  “I can see it all now.  You’ve been alone these last few years, left to the care of people who couldn’t possibly care for you like I can.”

“You leave him alone.”  Dean stood again and the demon shook his head as he looked at Dean, the pressure building in his chest again.

“He is mine, marked since birth to sit by my side come the end of days.”

Dean rolled his shoulders back and looked at Sam.  He couldn’t read the expression in Sam’s eyes, but Dean let his own emotions show plain as day.  When he looked back at the demon he could feel the shock.  “Sam is mine and mine alone,” Dean said.  “You want him, you gotta get rid of me first.”

Dean felt the pressure fall from his chest and knew that he’d shocked the demon into dropping his guard.  The gun shot sounded loud in the still house but the way the lightening danced over the demon’s skull kept Dean in one place.

Movement brought his eyes up to look at John Winchester and the colt as the man lowered it.  There was something in his eyes Dean couldn’t read, grief and pain etched so deep it was hard to see but there was something like relief there as well.

“Dean,” he heard Sam’s whisper and he was moving before anything else could stop him.  Sam was falling again, his world blanking out.  Dean tried to get to him in time, but even as Sam fell Dean felt it too, the backlash of the demon’s power, the return of memory.  He crashed to the floor as well, not knowing that even as he lost consciousness he had cushioned Sam with his own body, wrapping him in his embrace as they both fell.

 

 

 

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He knew where he was as soon as he opened his eyes.  He sat up slowly in bed, taking in the ratty motel and the way his bag was set on the edge of the table.  His bag and no other.  He looked at the other bed that was still clean, covers neatly folded in place.  In the trash can he could see the tops of beer bottles and he knew instinctively it wasn’t the kind he and Sam drank.  His heart sank, but he couldn’t handle it just yet. 

Instead, he got up and showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, following his usual morning routine.  He checked his messages and set out his gun, cleaning it thoroughly before moving on to his back up weapon.  He ate breakfast and then by ten he was back to lying on the bed. 

Sam wasn’t there and Sam wasn’t coming. 

His last memory was of falling as he tried to protect Sam, his brother’s weight carrying them both heavily to the floor.

His first memory was of carrying Sam away from a fire when he wasn’t big enough to carry the weight.

Somehow, the weight of his relationship with Sam always seemed to get in the way. 

He tried hard not to think about those two years as the day rolled by but there was a lot of time between the stilted visits with Bobby and John.  He knew Sam was alright, knew that he was still close by and that John and Bobby were looking after him.  He didn’t ask, couldn’t ask after his brother, but he knew.  After John’s visit the first night he told them he was fine, to pack up and take Sam back to Bobby’s until his head was back on right but he didn’t have much faith in them following his orders.

He didn’t answer his phone for the next two days and when someone knocked on the door he ignored it, turned onto this side and pretended to sleep when someone came in anyway.  Sam never came to see him, never tried to straighten out the mess they’d managed to make of their relationship, so there was no reason to get out of bed.

On the third day, Dean did get out of bed.  Sam wasn’t coming to him and he knew that Sam wasn’t going to leave either.  Dean took the decision out of his hands.  His brother needed space, needed the time to sort things in his head and staying in a crappy motel wasn’t helping him any, so Dean got ready, packed his gear up, and took off in the Impala.  He could see Bobby and his dad in the rearview mirror, watching his tires spin as he made headway to the nearest interstate but no one tried to call his phone. 

He could understand that.  He was supposed to take care of his brother; he was supposed to protect him from the monsters of the world, from people like him who took advantage of the confused and scared.

He drove for two days with no destination until he found himself back in the beginning, a dumpy motel in Bismark Grove where he’d woken over two years ago next to a strange boy.  He asked for the same room and got it, spent the next day staring at the ceiling, remembering every night he’d lain beside his brother, wanting so much but knowing on some level that he couldn’t cross that line.  Wanting and knowing and failing anyway because Sam had always been able to find the weak chinks in his armor.

He didn’t lock the door and it was no surprise when it opened late that night as the moon hung high in the sky.  He didn’t say anything as Sam crawled into the bed beside him, slid right between the sheets, rested his head on Dean’s heart, but fell into dreamless sleep.

 

 

 

 

They weren’t talking.  Sam didn’t say anything and Dean didn’t either, their only communication was caveman style as they grunted and groaned their way through the drive back to Dad and Bobby.  Sam made the call, telling them it was time to get it out.  Dean thought that was a bit unnecessary really, because what part of their relationship hadn’t been outed when they hadn’t known?

The diner was nice enough.  The waitress was friendly and flirted with them even when it was obvious they weren’t the best of company.  John and Bobby showed up a few minutes late and Dean could see from the tension between them that they’d been fighting again. 

Dean thought back, remembering the snippets of fights, especially the last one, right before everything was lost and he finally put it all together.  “You son of a bitch.”  The other three looked at him in surprise.  He was normally the least likely to break an uncomfortable silence.  “You did this,” Dean accused John.  “You did this to us, left us alone with no memory and no way to survive.”

“Dean, no.  It wasn’t like that.  I did do a spell, but it was just supposed to keep the people who wanted to hurt you from knowing where you were.”

“How does that go to us losing our memory then?” Sam asked, picking up on Dean’s agitation and sharing it.

“I didn’t know the language so I had to have it translated.  Apparently there was a phrase he misused.”

“The spell was supposed to keep you from being known by anyone who meant you harm.”  Bobby filled in.  “What it did was to keep you from being known by anyone who could harm you.”

“So every person on the planet?”

“Yeah,” Bobby answered, throwing a scowl John’s way.

“And you did that without bothering to ask us?  Christ, Dad.  You had no right!”

“Don’t talk to me about rights Dean.  I know you took care of Sam those two years, but I was trying to protect him from something bigger.”

“Don’t bother,” Dean said as he stood up.  “You don’t need to worry about us anymore.”

“Dean, sit down.”

“No.  I’m done.  You have no idea what you did.  You have no idea what it was like to wake up with nothing, not even a name.  You have no idea how close we came to going to the cops in those days.  You have no idea…” 

He felt a hand on his wrist and looked down to see Sam nodding, a sad, determined smile on his lips.  “He has no idea.  And he can’t.”  There were so many things going on behind those eyes and Dean wanted to hide from it or run straight to it, he wasn’t sure which.  

Dean nodded though because Sam was right.  No matter what they decided to do, it would be the two of them against the world.  Whether they picked up as lovers, or simply took to the road as brothers, they would still be themselves and John would never know how far he’d broken his boys. 

When he walked out and got in the Impala, the passenger door pulled open and Sam slid in place beside him.  They didn’t get far on the road before the last few days caught up with him again and he decided to pull in.  They got a room and fell into their usual nightly routine, even if it was still early. 

When Sam got into bed, Dean sat on the edge for a while.  He felt Sam shifting restlessly and then his brother was sitting up, staring at him.

_“You did but slumber here, while these visions did appear.”_

“What?”  Dean knew what it was.  His mind kept replaying the afternoon at Bobby’s, the fight Bobby and John had gotten into before their father decided to do a spell that had thrown them out into the world alone.  He remembered Sam reading as the argument had started, but he couldn’t help but ask. 

 _“If we shadows have offended,_  
_Think but this, and all is mended:_  
_That you have but slumbered here,_  
_While these visions did appear;_  
_And this weak and idle theme,_  
_No more yielding but a dream,_  
_Gentles, do not reprehend._  
_If you pardon, we will mend.”_

Sam pulled Dean close and Dean didn’t fight it.  “You helped me learn that.”

“Yeah I remember Sammy.”  
 

  
 

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001cw39k.gif.html)

 

 

“Tell me what you want Dean.  You want this to go away, to be nothing more than a stupid fantasy, then it will.” 

He could see the way it was warring in Sam, the same way it was in his own chest.  It nearly killed him to think of it that way, but he knew what Sam was doing, what he was trying to salvage.  Jesus, his little brother had grown in the last two years without a big brother to keep him in line.

“If you want… more … I meant what I said the other night.”

Dean sat there for a moment longer, then looked over at Sam.  It wasn’t nearly as hard as he thought it should be, falling in love with his brother.

He pressed his lips to Sam’s, running his hand through his brother’s hair and pulling him just where he wanted him.  He kissed across his jaw and up his temple until he had his lips pressed to Sam’s ear.  As he pulled his brother to him he laughed softly, letting out one last line before letting sleep embrace them both. 

_“Lord what fools these mortals be.”_

 

 

[ ](http://s1180.photobucket.com/user/hunters_retreat/media/Art%20Made%20for%20hunters_retreat/While%20These%20Visions%20Did%20Appear%20by%20hunters_retreat/001ct6cq.gif.html)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to wickedlilwitch for the wonderful beta! She really helped me whip this into shape! Also, a huge HUGE shout out to vamptastica for the amazing art she put together for this! Please take a moment to check out her link at the bottom and tell her how awesome she is!!


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